


Eros and the Bunny

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dorks in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Katsuki Yuuri in Lingerie, Love at First Sight, M/M, Victor Nikiforov doing odd jobs, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-10-28 15:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 92,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: When they first meet they leave a lasting impression on each other. They take to each other instantly. It’s just a chance encounter, but destiny keeps throwing them together. Is Victor really the sweet college student with a lot of silly part time jobs that he appears to be? But, more importantly, will he ever figure out what Yuuri’s job is?





	1. Eros Meets the Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> New fic time! I mentioned this fic so much that I thought I should post chapter 1 to try to break up my hiatus (and to celebrate St. Valentine's Day? Maybe?)
> 
> I’m getting close to a subscribers milestone and I thought maybe once I reach it I could do something to celebrate. Are people still interested in me writing a fic for them? I could do some kind of name raffle and the winner gets to ask me to write short fic for them? ...anyway, all that is in the future, since I still have a long fic to write for a bang...
> 
> Edit: A big THANK YOU to Ladyofthefl0wers for the beautiful banner!!

Sacrifices. Life is full of them. Even without the black magic kind there are all sorts to be found out in the world. Sometimes a person has to sacrifice bits of their time to get something done, other times people sacrifice sleep and bits of their sanity to get something they want. At times people do it without thinking. For a moment the world hangs in an unstable balance as several things are possible at the same time and then, decision made, the person is sent hurtling off down a path that often has an unknown destination. And who can say which decision was the correct one?

 

Victor Nikiforov’s day got off to a bad start: two kids threw up on him and one gave him a kick in the foot, but then a little girl gave him a long hug and he thought things were starting to look up.

Then came the afternoon lull when everyone left after finishing their lunch and the after work crowd hadn’t come yet. He used the opening to take a bathroom break.

Victor didn’t bother changing out of his work clothes and just headed straight for the bathroom, expecting to find it empty, but as soon as he walked in and the door closed behind him he stopped.

Someone was crying in one of the stalls.

He held his breath and listened.

Definitely crying.

Someone had locked themselves away in a bathroom stall to cry. The thought of that alone made him want to join them and cry as well.

“Are you okay?” Victor asked softly. “Are you hurt? I can get a first aid kit, if you need one. I –”

“Please go away,” the person said. “You can’t help me. Just go away.”

“Are you sure? I volunteered at a hospital for two weeks. I can bandage wounds almost like a real nurse!” Victor boasted. It was the only skill he’d managed to get out of it.

The person sniffed. “I’m not hurt,” he said.

Victor tried a different approach then. “Did someone steal your wallet? I can call the police.”

The person sighed. “Someone played a nasty prank on me and, well… I’m a bit embarrassed to show my face now, to be honest.”

 _Oh_. Victor fidgeted. He tried to imagine what it could be. What sort of pranks were there? He thought of all those times people tried to spray-paint him and that one case when someone climbed up so they could pour a bucket of cold water over his head. “Maybe I can help? If you’re covered in paint, or… or something,” he suppressed the memory of kids throwing up on him, “I can wash it off. I promise I won’t laugh.”

“You promise?” the person asked.

Victor nodded and then remembered that the person couldn’t see him. “Yes, of course!”

He realized then where he’d heard that voice before. He remembered a shy teenage boy with messy blond hair who’d passed by him a few times, but just as he pictured the boy perfectly in his mind, the stall door opened and the stranger stepped out.

Victor froze.

It wasn’t the blond boy he’d imagined. It was a sex god. He was even dressed the part, or rather _undressed_ like a sex god would be. No, he corrected himself, not naked. He wasn’t naked, but - oh, god! – what he was wearing left little to the imagination. First, there was the lace top that didn’t even try to cover his nipples. It was short, leaving his midriff exposed. Second, there was what looked very much like a thong. Victor forced his eyes back to the god’s – no, boy’s – no man’s face.

The stranger was as shocked to see him as he was.

Victor remembered he was still in his work clothes, so while he was taking in someone who looked like they’d just stepped out of the pages of Playboy the stranger was staring at a giant pink bunny with big floppy ears, which, he supposed could also have appeared on the pages of Playboy.

Victor pulled off the mask that covered his head all the way around to reveal his face. “I just… uh… wear this for the job. I’m a mascot for the toy store in this mall.” He waved absently in its general direction.

“Oh.”

Victor smiled and rummaged in the bag on his shoulder. “Here.” He pulled something out and handed it to the stranger. “Take this flower. I mean… I know it’s cheap and ugly, but maybe it will cheer you up a little bit?”

“Thanks,” the stranger took it with a smile.

“I’m sorry someone played a prank on you,” Victor stammered out, forcing his eyes to stay on the stranger’s face and noticing for the first time that he was wearing makeup even if it got a little smudged. His hair was sleeked back. Whatever the pranksters had done it wasn’t to his face. Victor risked another look down and forced his eyes to go all the way over the stranger’s legs. They were long, bare and ended in two perfect feet in a pair of black heels. “I… uh… What did they do?” he asked, feeling very stupid.

The person turned, presenting what Victor was sure was the most beautiful backside in existence.

“Um…” he stuttered, his brain grinding to a halt and refusing to work at all.

“Can you help me, please?”

“With… With what?” he asked, swallowing nervously. His lips were dry and he licked them. Then he regretted doing it and prayed with all his might that the stranger hadn’t seen that.

“Can you wash the lipstick off, please?”

Victor looked down. Sure enough, there was line going from the small of the stranger’s back down to the middle of the exact spot where the backside ended. Someone had drawn an arrow pointing downwards in bright red lipstick.

And then he realized what the stranger was asking for. “Um…” He felt his knees tremble. “I’ll just take this off – my costume off, I mean. It’s… It’ll get in the um… the way.” He cringed mentally, all too aware of how he sounded.

“Alright,” the stranger said. “I don’t mind pranks,” he said while Victor unzipped his costume, “but this… it’s a bit degrading, to be honest.”

“It is… I mean, I… I’m sorry, it must be very embarrassing.” Victor found somewhere to leave his costume and went to wash his hands. “I… do you…”

“I have makeup remover,” the stranger said and walked back into the stall to return with a pair of jeans, a sweater and a small black purse. He rummaged in its contents before finding a little bottle and some cotton pads, all of which he handed to Victor.

Right. He had to be very careful with where he put his fingers. He stepped up right behind the stranger and forced himself to think. The colour of the lipstick matched what the man was wearing and he suspected that they’d used his own on him.

Victor bit his lip and started at the top of the stripe, but it refused to come off. He rubbed harder.

The stranger stepped forward and gripped the counter with both hands to steady himself.

Forgetting for a moment what he was doing, Victor rubbed as hard as he could and, slowly the lipstick came off. He had to work his way down slowly.

He stopped.

The stranger was breathing hard. “Is… is that it?” he gasped out.

 _Oh god, I really hope no one comes in on us like this!_ “Almost,” he said. There were still the sides of the arrow to rub off. He attacked those, doing his best to ignore the stranger’s loud breathing. “There. Done,” he finally said, taking his hand away and tossing another cotton pad in the trashcan.

“Is that it?” the stranger breathed out. “Are you sure?”

Victor stared at the stranger’s bare skin. At some point he’d lowered the thong so that the straps wouldn’t get in his way. He’d done it without thinking and did his best not to think about that now. Was there still a bit left?

He stepped closer and resisted the urge to slide his fingers over the stranger’s butt cheeks. Then he realized the stranger was bending over the counter. Wasn’t there a whole genre of movies that started out like this?

“No, that’s it,” he said and hurried to pull the thong back up.

The stranger straightened up and turned around. “Thank you.” His cheeks were red and his eyes sparkled. Victor realized with a little shock that he’d come very close to having sex with a complete stranger he’d never met before and they didn’t even know each other’s names!

“Victor,” he said and blushed deeper. “My name is Victor, I mean.”

“I’m sure you are,” the stranger said with a smile. He pulled his jeans on and straightened up. “Yuuri,” he said and held out his hand.

“Really? I thought with looks like that your name would be Eros, or something,” Victor said and then bit his lip as soon as he’d heard the words that had escaped his mouth.

Yuuri laughed and shook Victor’s hand. “And what nickname should you have with those hands of yours?” he whispered.

Victor’s brain took in the combination of jeans, lace and heels and stopped working.

Yuuri pulled a sweater on and even with that addition he still looked too good for words. “Thanks again. See you later, bunny!” He took his things, threw one last glance at Victor and the door closed behind him.

“See you later,” he whispered, feeling as if all of him was on fire.

 

Yuuri stood in a bus packed full of people and clutched the strap of his purse as tightly as he could, doing his best to suppress the memories of what had happened in the bathroom. He could still feel Victor’s fingers sliding carefully over his skin.

Yuuri bit his lip and his eye fell on his reflection in the window. He’d felt so weak under Victor’s touch. Had Victor realized what effect he’d had on Yuuri? Or that Yuuri had placed so much trust in him, a complete stranger he’d never met before?

A handsome and kind stranger. With amazing hands.

Yuuri didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he couldn’t argue that he wasn’t feeling something like a crush right now.

He remembered the feel of Victor’s fingers resting gently on either side of his hips as he checked that there was no trace of the lipstick left and suppressed a shudder. He’d have dreams about those fingers sliding into him, he was sure of it.

 _I wouldn’t have minded all that lipstick if it had come from your lips._ He’d regretted the thought as soon as it had occurred to him.

He tried to think about something else, his list of chores, or what he was going to do as soon as he got home, but his mind kept conjuring up an image of that face, at once innocent and too handsome for Yuuri’s own good.

His reflection was blushing and biting his lips anxiously. He stared at the curve of his own mouth, the lips still bright red from the lipstick he was wearing. _Maybe I should’ve left an imprint on him myself._

His face turned red as he imagined _where_ he could’ve left that imprint.

_Come on, Yuuri! Get your act together! You don’t know who he is, or anything about him. Maybe he’s a horrible person, or he has someone._

But, try as he might, he couldn’t help the next thought that came. _Oh no! I didn’t give him my number! How will I ever find him again?_

He panicked so much that he nearly missed his stop, but then it occurred to him that there was another way to find Victor again. _I know where he works. I’ll just drop by the toy store tomorrow,_ he decided, stepping off the bus and walking back to his apartment.

The rest of the evening went by like every other evening. He ate dinner, walked his dog and almost succeeded in going to bed early.

His last thought before he drifted off was a memory of Victor’s voice and he promised himself he would hear it again soon.

 

_Victor was holding Yuuri by the hips with one hand and rubbing his hand down Yuuri’s back. He stood right behind Yuuri and whispered something into his ear, but Yuuri didn’t understand a single word._

_Victor lowered himself to his knees and rubbed gently with his thumb, his finger almost slipping in._

_Yuuri closed his eyes and breathed hard._

_He felt Victor pull his thumb away and press his mouth against the spot where his thumb had been. His lips parted and Yuuri felt Victor’s tongue touch him…_

Yuuri awoke with a shock and bolted off his bed and into the bathroom where he jumped into a cold shower without even stopping to think.

 _Stop it!_ he ordered himself as icy water poured over him. _Calm down! You don’t know him! This is ridiculous!_

But there was no helping it and Yuuri spent the rest of the day looking forward to the moment when he would see Victor again.

It had felt good, he admitted to himself as he brushed his teeth and stared at his reflection. Victor’s touch in real life and in his dream had felt really good. He closed his eyes and let himself replay the memory in his mind.

When he opened his eyes again he met his reflection’s eye and felt embarrassed. _Oh god! I’m fantasizing about someone I just met!_

Yuuri went to work and did his best to not think about Victor. He had to avoid building up his expectations. He knew how that always ended – with tears and a broken heart.

But still, despite all his efforts, as soon as he finished he ran to the mall’s toy store. It was a good thing there was only one, he told himself as he arrived in front of it.

Now, where would Victor be? The mascot could stand just outside the store, or maybe he was wandering in the store itself. No one stood in front of the exit and it took all of Yuuri’s self-control to step inside.

He searched through the store, aisle by aisle and just as he was beginning to lose all hope, he spotted a giant pink bunny head towering above the aisles at the other end of the store.

Yuuri slipped into a discrete little spot between stacks of giant dolls and pulled out his makeup mirror. He fixed his hair and freshened up his lipstick before strutting slowly towards the giant bunny.

He walked all the way up to the mascot, throwing a quick look around himself to make sure that no one else could see them here.

“Hello, handsome,” he said, trailing a finger down the bunny’s face. “Remember me?” He pressed up against the bunny and his sweater slid off him to reveal a bare shoulder. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” he added in a dangerous whisper.

The bunny stepped away and stammered out something incomprehensible.

Yuuri stared at him through half-closed eyes and opened his mouth to say, “I’ll swallow you up,” when the bunny pulled his mask off.

It wasn’t Victor.

The shock made Yuuri turn pale and jump away.

“S-sorry,” the stranger stammered out. “I think you have me confused with someone else…” His face was bright red. “I… uh… it’s flattering, but I have a girlfriend.”

“Sorry…” He turned as red as the stranger and almost ran away to hide his embarrassment.

Only when he was halfway down the mall did he realize the mistake he’d made and cursed himself. He should’ve asked the man if he knew anything about Victor! He was Victor’s co-worker, right? He had to know.

But it was too late to turn around now and Yuuri was conscious of what people around him would think of someone who suddenly turned and went the other way.

Stupid, _stupid_ Yuuri! But how was he supposed to know? And what could he possibly do now?

Tears rose in his eyes. Just his luck! He had met someone perfect and lost them right away again!

Yuuri forgot that he knew nothing about Victor and painted himself an idealized image of him. In Yuuri’s mind Victor had no flaws whatsoever. More than that, he was single and would’ve been glad to be Yuuri’s boyfriend.

Yuuri made for the bathroom without thinking as his eyes filled up with tears.

Something hit him before he got there and he turned to see what it was only to be greeted by the sight of Victor running down the hall towards him.

“Sorry! Sorry about that!” he called out and stopped. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri, forgetting that he’d meant to seduce the man, to appear cool and in control, ran towards Victor like someone getting reunited with their long-lost loved one in a romance movie.

Victor, getting the hint, opened up his arms and accepted Yuuri into his embrace.

“I missed you!” Yuuri exclaimed. “I wanted to find you, but you weren’t there!”

He felt Victor rub his back affectionately. “The toy store? I’m not working as a mascot today.”

Yuuri pulled away, feeling embarrassed for his sudden outburst. “What?”

“I’m on demos today!” Victor explained, holding up a remote control. Then he frowned at it, as if remembering that there was another important component. “Sorry, I…” Victor stepped away from Yuuri and walked over to the place where Yuuri had stood mere moments before to pick something up from the floor.

It was a broken toy helicopter.

Victor’s face fell. “I’m going to get fired for this.”


	2. Red

Victor thought a lot about Yuuri after their first meeting, of course, but about five minutes of thinking was enough to convince him that first – Yuuri had someone, second – Yuuri was way out of his league, and third –he wouldn’t see Yuuri ever again and, thus, he was convinced that nothing will ever happen between the two of them.

By an odd coincidence that night he had the exact same dream as Yuuri with the only difference being that he saw and experienced it all from his own point of view.

When he saw that Yuuri was the person he’d hit with the helicopter he knew that any chance he might’ve had was completely gone now. But when Yuuri ran to him there could be no doubt about it – he was as happy to see Victor as Victor was to see him.

They held on for a good long while before Victor remembered the helicopter he’d accidentally flown into Yuuri’s back and went to retrieve it.

“I’m going to get fired for this.”

His prediction turned out to be correct, but it didn’t upset him half as much as his separation from Yuuri.

The boy said little afterwards and left almost right away.

It was stupid to get upset. What could be more natural? Of course Yuuri didn’t want to spend time with him! Why would he?

He stayed up late, lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Yuuri.

Maybe if he’d tried harder he could’ve charmed the boy, but, no, that wouldn’t work and even if it did, Yuuri would soon see he was wasting his time with Victor.

_No one in their right mind wants to spend time with me._

When he rose in the morning he felt awkward, ugly and stupid.

The morning did nothing to improve his mood and by the time he was on the bus to work he’d almost persuaded himself that he wasn’t thinking about Yuuri and that, really, he’d gotten over the whole incident. He definitely didn’t try to see his reflection in the windows of the bus to make sure that his hair wasn’t sticking up stupidly on one side, or that his shirt was on straight. And no one could persuade him that when his eyes swept through the crowd it was because he was trying to catch a glimpse of Yuuri.

It was Wednesday, which meant that he had a full shift at the Hot Dog on a Stick in the mall, selling corn dogs. The job came with two things he particularly hated: an ugly uniform and very terrible regulars. As always, luck wasn’t on his side and after he changed into his uniform he found out that, thanks to a mistake in the schedule, he would have to struggle through the shift all by himself. He’d already done this twice and managed to not panic this time. He didn’t want to lose another job this week.

Victor turned away for a moment and when he turned back around there was Yuuri – leaning against the counter between them and smiling in a way that made sweat trickle down the side of his face. It didn’t help Victor’s body temperature when he saw that Yuuri’s shirt – very loose and very open as it was – slid forward to reveal a chest covered with black lace.

“Uh…” He stared at Yuuri’s chest like a deer stares at headlights until something kicked a different part of his brain and he turned a deeper shade of red as he realized that he was staring. He forced his eyes to return to Yuuri’s face and stay there. “Hello.” He meant it to sound cheery and welcoming, but instead the sound came out as though someone was choking him.

He felt his brain tumble off a metaphorical cliff and did his best to force it back all while trying hard to cover up for his blunder.

To his surprise, Yuuri was still smiling.

 

Yuuri took in the sight of Victor and did his best to suppress a laugh. The man was in bright striped clothes and a silly hat to match. To top it all off, Victor was selling corndogs.

Yuuri had come to the food court, looking for something to eat, not expecting to find Victor instead. Then again, maybe he’d found just what he’d been looking for.

“Hello,” Yuuri said in return, breathing the word out and half-closing his eyes. He watched Victor get even more flustered and mentally rejoiced. Nailed it. “I got hungry and went looking for something to eat…” he said and pitched his voice just right to make it obvious that there was nothing innocent about that sentence.

Victor got flustered by this as well and Yuuri mentally awarded himself another point.

He’d already berated himself for forgetting to get Victor’s number the day before and was doing his best to make up for it now.

“We-we have…”

_Nice going, Yuuri! You made him forget what he’s selling! Surely that’s worth another point? Oh, what the heck!_

“Uh…” Victor floundered.

Yuuri waited, resting his chin in his hand. He’d perfected the art of doing this years ago. If they’d been sitting at a table, he would’ve stroked Victor’s leg with his own. He had to settle for batting his eyelashes instead.

“…corndogs,” Victor finished after an eternity spent in the tensest silence imaginable. He picked one up and raised it as proof that he hadn’t made it up.

In every situation like this there was always some part of Yuuri that was bright red in embarrassment, hiding his face from the world, terrified of some kind of repercussions. Over the years, however, he’d learned to bury that part of himself deep in the farthest corner of his mind and ignore its pleas for attention. It was screaming now. Yuuri ignored it.

He placed his hand over Victor’s, whispering, “Perfect, it’s just what I wanted,” he pulled the corndog gently out of Victor’s loose grip and raised it to his mouth.

Victor looked ready to faint.

_If he passes out, I get ten points!_

He prepared to bite into it before remembering. “How much do I need to pay you for one of these?”

Victor’s hands scrambled frantically around for something to hold. He grabbed the big red ketchup bottle, gestured with it and opened his mouth to say something.

Yuuri could’ve sworn that he didn’t do anything provocative then, but Victor must’ve seen something, because his hands both gripped the bottle tighter and gave it a half-terrified squeeze. A stream of ketchup shot out of the bottle and hit Victor right in the face.

“Oh my god! Are you ok?” Yuuri exclaimed, dropping the corndog and grabbing a handful of napkins. He circled around the counter to help Victor.

“I’m… I’m…” he stammered out.

It was right in his eyes and very painful, judging by how frantic Victor then became.

Yuuri grabbed Victor by the hands and dragged him to the washrooms where he persuaded Victor to crouch down with his face in the sink. He’d never done this before, but he’d heard about it often enough to know that Victor’s eyes needed a thorough wash.

Victor didn’t say a word, letting Yuuri take charge.

At last, when Victor’s face was ketchup-free, he straightened up. “Thank you,” he said. His face was still covered with drops of water, several of them sticking to his eyelashes.

For several seconds Yuuri forgot to breathe. “Are you ok?” he whispered at last.

“Yeah, thank you so much!” Victor answered and then he exclaimed in surprise, staring down at Yuuri’s chest.

“What?” He lowered his head to see.

“I’m sorry!” Victor apologized. “Because of me your shirt is all wet!”

Yuuri smiled and gave a shrug. “It’s ok. I know how to dry it off quickly.” He pulled it off over his head and walked to hold it out under the hand dryer.

He waited for Victor to say something, but Victor remained silent. Finally, Yuuri looked at him over his shoulder.

Victor was blushing again.

Yuuri realized then that he’d revealed the body suit made from black lace that he’d been wearing under his shirt. It dipped low at the back, revealing most of his back, while at the front it failed to cover his chest.

He smiled. “Here we are again, Bunny. I’m half naked and we’re both in the bathroom.”

Victor put his hands over his eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t…” He turned to face the other way.

Yuuri suppressed a sigh. This one was tough work.

He finished drying his top and pulled it back on again. He let his hand slide around Victor’s arm. “Let’s go?” he whispered into Victor’s ear.

Victor blushed and nodded.

It must’ve been an odd sight – two people walking out of the bathroom arm in arm, but Yuuri didn’t care. He was too busy taking Victor in and trying to think of other ways to flirt with him. His mind didn’t offer anything and so he didn’t say a word before they reached the corndog stand.

Yuuri picked up the remains of his corndog. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house,” Victor announced with a smile.

 _I want a date with you,_ Yuuri thought desperately. _How do I get one?_ “What time do you finish your shift?”

Victor glanced at his watch. “At 6. I’ll need to clean up once I’m done.”

“I finish at 5,” Yuuri told him. “Wait for me, please. I thought maybe we could go home together? Which bus do you take?”

“The 29,” Victor answered. “It has a stop at the very end of the parking lot.”

“Me too! Do you go north or south from here?”

“South.”

Yuuri grinned like the happiest person in the world. “So do I! That’s great! We can go home together!”

 

Victor felt his head spin. Could it really be possible, or had he imagined all that? Did Yuuri just come, flirt with him, arrange to meet him later and leave? Or had all that been nothing more than a hallucination induced by fatigue and a touch of overwork?

Maybe it had happened, he told himself, but even then it didn’t matter – Yuuri would soon see that flirting with Victor had been a mistake.

At 6:00 when Victor began to put things away, Yuuri returned just as promised. He was in a red sweater and jeans this time. Victor wondered when he’d had the time to change, but then he noticed that Yuuri was also wearing a black choker and it became impossible to think about anything else.

That was the reason why when he finished putting everything away he smiled at Yuuri and said, “If it’s nice out, do you want to stop by a park on the way home?”

“Yes, of course!” Victor felt his heart sink at the sound of Yuuri’s enthusiasm.

 _Don’t do this,_ a voice whispered in the back of his mind. _You’ll get carried away again and get attached. You know it won’t last. You know he will see he’s way out of your league and go. There’s no point in it all. There’s nothing but heartbreak in it._

He pushed the voice back and did his best to continue smiling.

He knew this was wrong, that someone more deserving ought to be in his place, but how could he push such happiness away? If all he was allowed was an illusion of happiness for a short while, then why not take it?

Yuuri held out his hand and Victor took it, his heart beating fast. “Let’s go then, Bunny,” Yuuri said.

“Yes…” he hesitated, but only for a moment, “…Eros.”

Outside the air was warm. It wasn’t the pressing heat of summer. No that had receded a week ago, but the chill of fall hadn’t quite taken its place yet. They were in that limbo between summer and fall that was like a warning of the winter to come.

It always made Victor sad. There were many good things about all the four seasons, of course, but he liked summer best. It was the happiest time of the year for him.

They took the bus down for a few stops and got off when they reached the park.

The leaves were just beginning to turn yellow and red. Yuuri stopped to admire one and Victor found himself studying Yuuri’s profile, the line of his nose and the curve of his lips. He’d never met a boy like him, that much was certain.

Yuuri picked a bright yellow leaf up from the ground and handed it to Victor.

What was that superstition again? Yellow flowers for splitting up, wasn’t it? He couldn’t remember. His mother would know. She knew all the superstitions out there. Too bad none of them could help him.

“Thank you,” Victor said, accepting the leaf.

Yuuri’s arm slipped around his and the boy stepped closer, “It’s a return gift for the flower you gave me,” he said, smiling to show that he wasn’t very serious.

Victor twirled the leaf between his fingers. “This is much better than that plastic flower,” he observed. “Now I owe you something.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Yuuri assured him. He stepped closer and Victor let his eyes trail over the makeup on his face, the dark lines of eyeliner, the deep red lipstick and the slight touch of blush on his cheeks.

For a second he imagined he was a more confident man. He’d invite Yuuri for dinner and, perhaps, if the evening went well, he would invite him back to his apartment. His more confident persona would have a grand apartment that would make most people jealous. And then, after sharing a few glasses of expensive wine, they would…

But there was just no point to delude himself like this. He knew that if he tried to invite Yuuri over, he’d mess it all up. It was simply better for him to let everything stay as it was.

Yuuri reached up and pressed his lips to Victor’s cheek.

Victor stood still, breathing the moment in, letting it stretch out into eternity and hoping like mad that Yuuri would leave a lipstick mark on his cheek.

Yuuri stepped away and giggled. “I got some lipstick on you. Sorry about that!”

Victor raised his hand. “Please don’t try to rub it off.”

“Would you like a kiss on the other cheek?”

“Yes, please,” he whispered, closing his eyes and bracing himself for a second moment of pure bliss.

 

It was a good date. Victor went home with a face covered in lipstick. Yuuri returned home with the satisfaction of a job well done.

He lay on his stomach on his bed and called Victor. This time he’d remembered to get his number at the last possible minute.

“Hey,” he said as soon as Victor picked up. “I just wanted to know you got home ok.”

“I did. Thank you.”

Yuuri tried to think of something else to say as he fiddled with his blanket.

“What are you doing right now?” he asked after a long silence. Too late he realized he shouldn’t have asked it in such an innocent tone of voice.

“Cooking dinner,” Victor answered levelly.

 _What do you do apart from working odd jobs?_ Yuuri wondered. He remembered a friend who’d worked at a café to pay for university. The image of Victor as a university student appeared in his mind almost as soon as the memory came to him.

 

_Victor sat at a table, wearing a big pair of glasses, which he pushed up his nose as he chewed on his pencil and read the textbook open before him. He frowned and pushed his hair out of his face._

It was a good image and enough to make Yuuri blush.

It all made sense though. Now that he really thought about it: why else would Victor work all those odd jobs? They were probably paying him very little too, so he worked as many as he could, hoping it would add up and balance out in the end.

Yuuri imagined Victor as the son of a rich family. He imagined Victor rebelling and the family disowning him in return, forcing him to work odd jobs to survive.

This image nearly made him laugh until he remembered that he was still on the phone with Victor.

“What are you doing?” Victor asked after a long pause.

 _Fantasizing about you,_ Yuuri thought. “Oh, nothing much,” he answered and cursed himself for not inventing something that sounded better.

“Ok.”

An awkward silence followed, during which they both tried to think of something more to say and both failed.

 _You’d think I was an embarrassed teenager, or something,_ Yuuri thought and shook his head at himself. “Well, I won’t distract you from your dinner,” he finally said. “See you later.”

“See you later!”

They both hung up and Yuuri stared for some time at his phone. _Call back,_ he willed Victor. _Please, call back._

The phone rang. It was Victor. “Hello, Yuuri! Sorry, I forgot to ask – are you working tomorrow? Maybe we can go together?”

Yuuri’s face spread into a smile. He turned over on the bed and dropped onto his back. He made plans to make Victor again and promised himself that he’d keep making more.

Victor was intriguing. Yuuri couldn’t help but admit that. It was probably not the best reason for wanting to see someone time and again, but Yuuri found his mind constantly returning to him. There were so many questions. Too many questions.

In Yuuri’s mind, there couldn’t be a simple explanation for everything. There had to be something out of the ordinary happening, simply because someone like Victor wasn’t ordinary in the slightest.

Later, as he fell asleep, he imagined pulling Victor’s glasses off and kissing him as hard as he could and it didn’t bother him in the slightest that the glasses only existed in his imagination.

 _I will learn your secret, Victor,_ he promised himself right before drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My schedule was really mad lately. I hope it will become more manageable soon!


	3. Bunny’s Boyfriend

A new day dawned and Yuuri found, much to his own surprise that, despite the ease between them, overnight he and Victor graduated to the stage of sighs and glances.

They stood side by side on the bus, unable to say a single word.

 _What’s wrong with me?_ Yuuri berated himself. _We were just fine yesterday! Come on!_ he urged himself. _It’s Victor! You nearly made him faint yesterday!_

He remembered about the ketchup and bit his lips in frustration with himself. He’d hurt Victor! What kind of flirting was that?

The bus gave a sudden lurch and Yuuri tumbled into Victor. He blushed and raised his eyes. “Sorry!”

“It’s alright,” Victor assured him as he held out one arm to steady Yuuri.

Yuuri tried to straighten up, but the bus lurched again and Yuuri hit his head against Victor’s chest.

Victor put his arm around Yuuri and held him close.

Yuuri, feeling like someone who’d never dated before and was now with their first ever crush, tried to figure out what Victor smelled like.

Had he been a character in a romance novel, he would’ve opted for descriptions like “manly” and “handsome”, but as it was Victor – or, rather, Victor’s shirt – smelled like laundry detergent. There wasn’t even a hint of coffee on his breath. Yuuri held on to Victor until he heard the announcement for their stop. He released Victor and stepped away.

“Sorry about that!”

Victor caught Yuuri’s hand and held on as they got off the bus.

Yuuri, assuming that Victor was going to spend another day selling corndogs, didn’t ask where he was going and didn’t even remember to ask when he’d finish his shift. No, like a star-struck fan, he only managed one sentence, which was, “Have a good day!”

When lunch came and he went to the food court again, he realized his mistake: Victor wasn’t there.

He circled around and considered asking the other people at Hot Dog on a Stick and changed his mind. They didn’t have a very helpful look about them.

_I need to find him myself. How hard can it be?_

He glanced at his watch. He had another 30 minutes of break left. _If I find him in those 30 minutes, I will ask him to be my boyfriend._ It was a strange thought and he wondered immediately where it had come from.

20 minutes later he found Victor, but it was some time before Yuuri could work out what his job was that day.

He stood with glass cases full of black stuff, surrounded by a crowd of excited kids, who were all shouting and laughing about something.

“Look! Look at him!” multiple voices shouted almost in unison and pointed, but no matter how much Yuuri craned his neck he couldn’t see anything.

Victor raised his head, spotted Yuuri and broke out into a big smile.

Yuuri stopped and – he really shouldn’t have, he really, _really_ , ought to have known better – bit his lower lip.

Victor stumbled against one of the glass cases and let out a loud yelp and only then did Yuuri realize what was inside the cases.

Ants. A whole colony of them. And they were all crawling up Victor’s legs!

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed and ran to help even thought he hadn’t the slightest idea of what to do.

There was a mad scramble and more panicked screaming from Victor, rising in pitch and volume as the ants travelled further up.

In the end it was the kids to figured out a way to get the ant colony back in its place and Yuuri was just there to repeat their advice to everyone who would listen to him.

“Are you ok?” Yuuri asked, putting a hand around Victor.

He forced a smile. “I’m fine, really.” His face was red. He hung his head and whispered, “God, that was so embarrassing!”

Yuuri knew he was late and knew that he’d get in trouble if he didn’t head back now, but still he continued to look into Victor’s face. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

Victor nodded. “Yes.”

There was no way to argue with that. Yuuri wrapped both arms around Victor and reached up for a kiss. He pecked Victor on the cheek and whispered, “Please be my boyfriend.”

Victor’s face changed and Yuuri could see by his expression that he was about to say no.

Yuuri grabbed his hands with both of his own and squeezed them tightly. “Please say yes!”

A deep sadness appeared in Victor’s eyes, but he nodded. “I’m not good enough, but I will do my best.”

Yuuri breathed out. Then, remembering about the time he gave Victor another peck and ran off, exclaiming, “I’ll come looking for you after 5! Wait for me, please!”

 

Victor watched Yuuri rush off and felt his heart grow heavy. Yuuri was amazing. He was kind and handsome. In short – he was perfect. Victor wasn’t ready to see someone as amazing as Yuuri regard him with disappointment.

 _You don’t know a thing about me,_ he thought sadly. _And I’ll only disappoint you before the end._

Around him most of the children returned to studying the ants in open fascination. They would never understand a pain like his.

It occurred to Victor then that he barely knew anything about Yuuri himself. What job did he have? Why was he always wearing something seductive under his shirt? And how was it possible that Yuuri had no boyfriend?

Well, he remembered with a touch of a blush on his cheeks, that honour fell to him now.

To his surprise, despite hesitating to become Yuuri’s boyfriend, he now found himself vowing to be the best possible boyfriend. Until it all fell apart, of course.

It was only fair: Yuuri deserved the absolute best.

Yes, Yuuri was a mystery, Victor decided.

As his shift came to an end he put everything away, making sure that all the cases were closed and that no ants could get out.

This time he finished before Yuuri, meaning that Victor had some time to wander around the mall.

Somehow his life had ended up tied to this mall. It wasn’t just all the little jobs, but the people there and so he liked to wander the halls as if they were the streets of a city. He learned to ignore the display windows and the posters on the walls. All that had become nothing more than the background details of his life.

He had that nagging guilt he always got when he knew he ought to be elsewhere, doing something else, but, like always, he ignored it. He had to wait for Yuuri. The boy’s needs came first. Everyone else could wait, including himself.

Besides, he reasoned, he needed to make up for the terrible impression that he, without a doubt, left upon Yuuri that morning.

The thought hardly had time to pass through his mind when a familiar figure appeared at the other end of the hall. Victor recognized Yuuri and hurried towards him, not noticing that at the same time someone else was trying to cross the hall in front of him. They collided into each other and Victor swore.

“Sorry! Are you ok?” the person he’d collided with asked.

Victor did his best to smile and nod convincingly before mumbling an apology in return, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault: I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Are you alright?” another voice asked and Victor realized with a sinking heart that, once again, Yuuri had witnessed Victor embarrassing himself.

“Yeah,” he answered after a long pause. “And what about you? I mean – how was your time at work?” _I can’t think at all anymore! What’s wrong with me?_

“Same as always,” Yuuri replied with a shrug.

They stood side by side, unable to think of anything else to say.

Victor looked away, searching desperately for a topic for conversation, and his eye fell on a teenager staring at Yuuri in open admiration. The expression didn’t surprise Victor. It was the reaction that Yuuri deserved from everyone: it was impossible to look at him in any other way.

The teenager didn’t stop there, however. He patted his pockets, found a piece of paper that looked like an old receipt and a pen and rushed over to Yuuri. “Can- can I have your autograph, please?” he gasped out, getting very flustered as soon as Yuuri set eyes on him.

Yuuri threw a look at Victor, mumbled an excuse Victor couldn’t understand, and accepted the proffered items with a nod. Victor watched as Yuuri scrawled a quick, but beautiful signature and handed the paper back.

The teenager gave him a quick “thank you” and ran off with his prize.

Victor stared after him. He felt the question form in his mind, something like “do people often ask for your autograph?”

Then he turned and caught the embarrassed look on Yuuri’s face. “This is the first time someone’s asked for my autograph,” he admitted at last. “I never thought someone would. I mean… there’s not really a reason to…”

 _I’d ask for an autograph from a beautiful boy,_ Victor thought. _That sounds like a brilliant idea!_

Yuuri bit his lip and rubbed his arm as he looked away. _He doesn’t want to talk about it,_ Victor realized. _Then I won’t make him._

He took Yuuri’s hand and asked, “Do you want to go somewhere? Or are you too tired to do anything?”

Relief spread over Yuuri’s face and Victor knew that he’d done something right. “Can we go to that park again, please?”

“Yes, of course!”

It was a warmer day than before, making Yuuri remove his jacket to reveal a billowing white shirt that dipped down at the front and back.

Victor forced himself to look away almost immediately. “Look at those trees!” he exclaimed for something to say and pointed at the most ordinary trees he’d ever seen.

Yuuri put an arm around Victor’s and stepped closer. “You can look,” he whispered. “I dressed like this for you.”

“Are you sure?” Victor asked, still not daring to look. “Isn’t it rude to stare?”

“Not if you do it,” Yuuri insisted.

Yuuri _wanted_ him to look, Victor told himself and turned his head to stare. He let his eyes trail over Yuuri’s chest, taking in every single detail of what Yuuri was wearing. As if to counter how loose the blouse was, he wore tight leather pants. There was a choker around Yuuri’s neck again and Victor wondered if he’d worn it only because he’d seen Victor’s reaction to it last time.

With a laugh Yuuri reached up and caught Victor’s lips in a kiss. Yuuri’s hand slid over Victor’s cheek and Victor opened his mouth. Whatever Yuuri wanted he would get, Victor would make certain of it.

Victor put his hands around Yuuri. One of them slid up over the shirt, stopping only once he reached Yuuri’s bare skin.

A shudder passed over Yuuri’s shoulders. He pulled his mouth away from Victor’s, but still kept close as he whispered, “Victor…”

Now it was Victor’s turn to feel his heart beat fast. He let his thumb slide up Yuuri’s back, keeping his eyes fixed on Yuuri’s.

Yuuri’s eyelids dropped and he breathed hard.

And then it dawned on Victor that they were out in public and that someone could see them. He snatched his hands away, turning red in embarrassment. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to –”

Yuuri caught Victor’s face with both hands and kissed him again, kissing him so hard that when he released Victor a second time Victor’s head was spinning so much he nearly fell over.

For several minutes it was hard to think a complete sentence.

 _There is something Yuuri wants,_ Victor finally thought. _Does it matter what happens to me, if getting it will make him happy?_

_But he will leave!_

The same two thoughts went round and round in Victor’s mind until he began to suspect that he was going insane. Why wasn’t he different? Why couldn’t he have been one of those people who charmed others easily, who had lots of confidence and very few faults? Then he would’ve approached Yuuri in a way that would’ve led to marriage in the space of a month!

As Yuuri took Victor’s hand and they continued to walk as though nothing had happened, Victor imagined what their first few dates would’ve been like. He’d come to pick Yuuri up from work with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and –

Victor raised his hands to his face and almost screamed. He’d completely forgotten to get Yuuri flowers! How could he have forgotten something so important?

Yuuri gave him a worried look. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” Victor lied then blushed. “I mean yes, but only a little.” He eyed the wild flowers growing along the path. The different, the more confident and more successful version of Victor would’ve, without a doubt, bought Yuuri a bouquet of roses. He could even picture what they would look like – they would be such a deep shade of red that they would look as though they were made from velvet.

“Were you thinking that you left the stove on?” Yuuri asked half-jokingly.

“No,” Victor answered, forcing his mind out of the realm of rose-filled fantasies. “No, I forgot something else.”

“Is it something you can’t tell me?” Yuuri asked, stroking Victor’s arm.

“Not now,” Victor answered, aware that he was avoiding the question – something that he ought not to do at all.

“If you’re not in a hurry to go anywhere,” Yuuri began, watching Victor’s face closely, “can we go down to the pond? It’s not far, but I think it should be really nice there now.”

“The pond sounds like a good idea,” Victor agreed.

The path dropped down a hill, turned left and at last it reached the pond where it came to an abrupt end. There were several benches here for people to enjoy the view. A few people were wandering along the shore and someone was running.

All of nature around them seemed to be at peace. The pond was absolutely still and all the trees around it reflected in its surface as though it was made from a mirror. It was a sight to make one think that all was right with the world.

Victor’s hand reached for Yuuri’s and gripped it tightly.

For a moment – for just one little moment – he got to forget all his troubles.

He closed his eyes and breathed the air in. The sound of cars didn’t reach this part of the park and so it was possible to forget that they were in the middle of a city.

Finally he remembered himself. He remembered where he was and that he wasn’t here alone. Victor opened his eyes and turned to look at Yuuri.

“Sorry,” he said. “I got a little carried away.”

Yuuri shook his head. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” He put his arms around Victor and held him.

Victor waited for Yuuri to say something, to ask a question Victor would struggle to answer, but Yuuri remained silent.

They circled the pond with slow, measured steps and Victor studied Yuuri’s face, the way the light of the setting sun fell on him, the way he smiled or how deep his eyes were. Victor felt himself fall as though he’d stepped off a cliff.

Yuuri laughed and told him something, but the words didn’t get through to Victor. He just nodded and laughed along.

Then they stopped walking and reached for another kiss. This time Yuuri put his hands on Victor’s shoulders. It was so warm and everything was perfect.

When it started to get dark, they left the park and Victor walked Yuuri home. They stopped before Yuuri’s apartment building and exchanged another kiss.

“Good night,” Yuuri whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes.” _And the day after that, if you want. And the day after that until you don’t want to see me anymore._

Yuuri walked away, stopping only at the door to look back over his shoulder.

Victor waved and Yuuri waved back before opening the door and disappearing into the building.

Slowly Victor turned and started the long walk home alone.

 

The next day was Friday, which meant that it was almost Saturday – a day when Yuuri could sleep in and he was really looking forward to that. He stood next to Victor on the bus and held his hand, thinking about the kiss they’d exchanged the day before. Victor had surrendered into the kiss as though he was handing his whole self over.

Yuuri threw a quick glance at Victor as a thought occurred to him. Maybe Victor had never really kissed anyone before and had reacted the way he had because he had no idea what to do.

 _Have you really not had boyfriends before?_ Yuuri wondered. _Is that possible?_ There was an innocence about Victor and, besides, it was so easy to make him blush.

Yuuri stepped closer to him. More than anything, he wanted another kiss like that, but he knew he had to wait until he could catch Victor alone.

 _Forget kissing!_ Yuuri thought, _I want to move on to something more than that!_

He threw another glance at Victor’s face and wondered what he was thinking. Without any warning, or any permission from him, Yuuri’s imagination started to play images before his eyes. It started with him trying to picture Victor without clothes and went downhill from there.

“Let’s go,” Victor said softly.

Yuuri turned red. “What?”

Then he spotted their mall outside the bus’s windows and he understood. “Right… um.” He walked to the bus’s door, doing his best to look innocent and not at all like someone who’d just been interrupted partway through a sexual fantasy by the very person he was fantasizing about.

 _What’s wrong with me?_ he wondered. _We’re going out. I can just invite him over! You know how it works, Yuuri: if you see who you want, go get them!_ Those words reminded him of what his friend had said to him once. He’d been laughing at the time as if to show that it was all meant to be in jest.

_“You’re always the same, Yuuri. Once you see what you want – you go get it. I admire that!”_

The thought made him glance at Victor again.

“Are you free tonight?” he blurted out and was shocked himself when he heard the words.

Victor lowered his head. “No, I’m sorry. I promised Angela I’d take her evening shift tonight.”

“You’re working two shifts in a row?” Yuuri asked, feeling worried about Victor.

“No,” Victor met Yuuri’s gaze as a sad smile appeared on his lips. “Only the evening shift.”

Yuuri blushed. Victor had gotten up early and travelled all this way just for the two of them to be together. “You should’ve said…” he stammered out, but his heart sang. Victor had come just to be with him. Suddenly a lonely Friday evening became less terrible than before.

“What time do you finish?”

“Midnight,” Victor answered.

“What job is it today?” Yuuri asked as the word “midnight” rang in his ears, whispered hotly and bringing with it all sorts of promises.

“Cleaning duty,” Victor said.

Yuuri was silent. Just what kind of arrangement did Victor have with the mall’s staff? Did everyone who worked there trade shifts with him, or was he just employed by every store and the cleaning company on top of it all?

It wasn’t his place to ask. For some reason, he felt that any direct questions would be prying and, besides, he reminded himself, he was bound to mess the question up and offend Victor in some way. Best to leave it for now. He’d learn everything eventually.

They were almost at the mall’s doors now.

Victor stopped just outside them and gave Yuuri a bright smile. “You don’t need to wait for me,” he said. “It will be late. Besides, it’s Friday night. I’m sure you have better things to do than to wait for me.”

“But I want to walk home with you,” Yuuri insisted. “I’ll be worried about you walking home alone at midnight.”

“But then you’ll have to walk home alone,” Victor pointed out. “No, no, I’ll walk you home.”

Yuuri laughed and gave Victor a coy look. “Why don’t you just come over after work? We can watch something together.” He stepped up really close to Victor. “Or do something else,” he whispered.

A blush appeared on Victor’s cheeks. “If you want,” he agreed softly.

Yuuri gave Victor a quick peck on the cheek and whispered, “I’ll see you at midnight, Bunny.” His hand slid down Victor’s cheek.

He waited for Victor to nod before releasing him and walking away.

 

Victor watched Yuuri leave and lowered his head. If he hurried back now, he might not lose a lot of time, he thought, but it was so hard to move, to tear his eyes away from the direction in which Yuuri had disappeared and to pull himself back into the real world.

His conscience demanded that he go now, but he knew that if Yuuri had walked back out then and asked to be taken home, Victor would’ve done everything the boy asked for.

But Yuuri didn’t come out and, after waiting for ten minutes, Victor turned and walked away.

 

Midnight was drawing close and Victor was finishing up his shift. There were more messes than usual that night and Victor had barely had time for a quick dinner break as he tried to clean them all up.

He was out in one of the halls now, across form one of the mall’s bigger stores. It was brightly lit and its display windows were full of items in all possible colours. Even the mannequins were different-coloured, as though the store manager thought that white mannequins wouldn’t attract enough attention. The store blasted music with a slow, hypnotic rhythm, drowning out the faster-paced pop song played in the store opposite.

Victor had learned long ago to ignore the store, but he knew without raising his eyes where he was and what was in this store.

He moved the mop over the floor to the rhythm of the slow song and thought about Yuuri.

What was his job? What brought him regularly to this mall?

A man in one of the stores began to shout at someone, his booming voice mixing with the music, making what he was saying impossible to understand.

The voice made Victor stop and stiffen.

It would never work out. He and Yuuri would be over soon. What did it matter what he did for a living, if it would all end soon? Victor ought to worry about keeping Yuuri happy now and not about Yuuri’s job.

By the oddest of coincidences, if Victor had raised his head in that exact moment, he would’ve gotten an answer to his question.

A poster hung on the wall just in front of him. Yuuri’s image smiled at all the passers-by, as if he’d heard something very amusing.


	4. Bunny’s Secret

Yuuri texted Victor where to meet him when he was done and waited by the door closest to the bus stop.

Ever since he got his job, going into malls had gotten really awkward for him. It was why he used to wear a face mask or a hat that he pulled down to his eyebrows. But now that he met with Victor regularly he didn’t bother with any of that. In fact, for a while he’d forgotten all about it. Until that boy had asked for his autograph and things got awkward again.

But Victor hadn’t said anything.

 _But what can he say?_ Yuuri wondered. _The posters are all over the mall. He must see them every day, so he must understand how awkward this is. That must be why he hadn’t said anything._

Yes, there were many posters of Yuuri in the mall, especially in the store with the pink mannequins, the bright colours and the slow hypnotic music.

The one next to Victor at that exact moment showed Yuuri in dark red lace panties and a tank top to match. His mouth was partially open while his eyes were half-closed. His arms were raised to his head and his feet were in black stiletto heels. To top it all off, his lipstick was smudged around his mouth, as if he’d just been kissing someone with a lot of enthusiasm.

At the door, the real Yuuri stood in a sweater and jeans, doing his best to stand casually and not like someone who was wearing a body harness under their clothes.

Finally Victor appeared, dressed in the shirt and pants he’d been wearing that morning and Yuuri suppressed a wave of disappointment at not seeing him in his cleaners’ uniform.

He saw the deep sadness in Victor’s eyes and the fatigue in the line of his shoulders and knew that he had to cancel his plans for that night.

“Hello, Yuuri!”

“Hey!” He tried to look cool and beautiful, but the harness was a little too tight across his chest and it was making it hard to think about anything else. He leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets and tried to imitate a pose he’d done for an ad once. He’d been wearing this exact harness that time.

Victor was tired and upset. His mind was elsewhere, so Yuuri tried to cheer Victor up.

He stepped away from the wall and turned his back to Victor. He stretched up, as though he’d gotten stiff while waiting. He knew that his sweater would rise just a little to betray a hint of what he’d worn under it. Slowly he turned with his arms still raised and he watched Victor’s face as the boy stared at Yuuri’s midriff.

Yuuri lowered his arms. He stepped up to Victor. “Next time, if you promise to be a good boy,” he whispered and saw by Victor’s face that he hadn’t understood a word Yuuri had said.

He resisted the urge to add more and merely took Victor’s hands with his own. “I was thinking,” he said, “you can walk me home and stay over at my place. I have a couch you can use.” He only added the last sentence when he saw the sheer weight of Victor’s exhaustion.

“I don’t want to be a bother!” Victor protested.

“You won’t be a bother, honestly,” Yuuri assured him. _We’re going out, aren’t we?_ “Then we can spend Saturday together,” he suggested, his hand sliding up Victor’s arm.

For a moment, Victor’s face betrayed him and Yuuri saw that he’d already made plans for Saturday.

“We don’t have to –” Yuuri began.

“If you want to –” Victor said at the same time.

Yuuri caught Victor by both hands. “Please,” he insisted, stepping close and looking into Victor’s eyes, “don’t change your plans for my sake. We can spend time together later.”

He’d thought that if not Friday night, they could enjoy Saturday morning, but seeing Victor’s reaction made him reconsider.

There was Saturday night and Sunday morning, he reminded himself.

“You don’t have to stay over, if you don’t want to,” Yuuri added, “but I will be glad, if you did.”

Victor nodded and Yuuri felt as if he’d won a battle of some sort.

This time the bus was almost completely empty. They sat next to each other in the back and Victor dozed off with his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

It was hard to wake Victor up and Yuuri wished he could’ve carried him while Victor slept on. As it was, they had no choice but to get up and get off the bus once they arrived at Yuuri’s stop.

They held hands as they walked to Yuuri’s apartment and didn’t let go as they went up in the elevator.

Yuuri could feel Victor’s eyes on him and tried to remember how long it had been since he’d invited someone to his apartment.

As soon as he opened the door and they stepped inside, Victor caught Yuuri in a kiss and pulled him to the wall so that he himself ended up with his back pressed against it.

Yuuri responded as gently as he could and once he felt the kiss had lasted long enough he pulled away and smiled at Victor.

“I’m sorry that all I can offer is the couch,” he apologized. He waited for them both to remove their shoes before leading Victor into the living room. He gestured at the couch. “I have a new toothbrush and a spare pajama, if you want them.”

Victor lay down on the couch as though to see how long it was as Yuuri went on talking.

“I’m sorry it’s so uncomfortable…” Yuuri’s voice trailed off as Victor’s head dropped down on the armrest and he fell asleep.

After several minutes went by Yuuri’s face spread into a smile. He tiptoed to the closet where he stored the extra blankets, which he brought back to drape over Victor.

“Good night, Bunny,” he whispered and planted a kiss on Victor’s forehead.

 

The first thing Yuuri was aware of when he woke up was the sound of off-key singing. The second thing was the delicious smell in the air and the last thing was how very hungry he was.

He slipped out of bed and followed the sound of singing into the kitchen where he found Victor standing at the stove, cooking breakfast.

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but he already knew what he would hear in return. Instead he studied Victor, starting with admiring his face and ending with his hands. It was strange to see Victor at a moment like this – when he thought no one could see him. All the sadness he usually carried inside himself was there in his face. The sight of it broke Yuuri’s heart almost as much as the knowledge that Victor kept it hidden.

He wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist and let them trail up to his chest. “Good morning,” he whispered into Victor’s ear and planted a kiss over it.

Victor shuddered and breathed out before turning to smile at Yuuri. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Yuuri whispered. “What about you?”

“Me too. Sorry I phased out completely last night.”

Yuuri pecked Victor on the cheek. “You’re welcome to come sleep on my couch anytime you like.”

“I promise that next time –” Victor began.

Yuuri slid his hands over Victor’s, interlacing their fingers as he stroked Victor’s cheek with his nose. “You were very tired yesterday,” he reminded Victor. “What time do you need to leave?”

Victor freed one hand to continue making breakfast. Yuuri watched him flip a pancake over and gave Victor’s shoulder a gentle kiss.

“I don’t – I’m not… I’m not really in a hurry to be anywhere,” Victor insisted.

Yuuri rubbed Victor’s shoulders. There was something he wanted more than breakfast, but it could wait. “It’s just that I promised to meet up with a friend,” he lied.

“You should’ve said! I won’t intrude any longer!”

Yuuri put his head on Victor’s shoulder and stared into his face. Victor had responded just as he’d expected. “Let’s have breakfast first,” he suggested, letting both hands rub against Victor’s chest. He stepped closer and his pelvis pressed against Victor’s buttocks.

Victor coloured and nodded.

 _I could have you right now,_ Yuuri thought. _Except that I suspect that would make you miss something important._

He kissed the back of Victor’s head, “I’ll be right back,” he promised and slipped away.

Yuuri headed straight for the bathroom where he locked himself in and turned to study his reflection in the mirror. His hair stuck up at odd angles. His face still had traces of sleep in it, but his eyes shone.

He wished they had time for lying in together, but the knowledge that Victor would drop everything at the smallest hint and stay was enough to persuade Yuuri that he had to wait for the right moment.

Yuuri sighed, keeping his eyes on his reflection. He wanted to dress up nicely and put some makeup on, but that would only make it harder for Victor to leave.

Instead, he took a cold shower, brushed his teeth and pulled his most casual clothes on.

 

After a breakfast filled with the most delicious pancakes in the world, Victor insisted on washing all the dishes himself.

Once he finished washing up, he turned to face Yuuri. “Why don’t you come over in the evening?” he offered. “In exchange for having me over last night?”

This more than suited Yuuri. He walked over to Victor with a smile and gave him a brief kiss on the lips. “Then I’ll see you tonight,” he promised.

He watched Victor leave and then rushed to the window and peered outside.

Before long Victor stepped out onto the street. He walked with his head lowered, as though dragged down by unpleasant thoughts.

 _Tonight,_ Yuuri told himself and put a hand over his mouth. _I don’t care if I don’t know what makes you so sad. One day I’ll find out your secret and maybe I’ll find a way to make you happy, but tonight I will have you._

He wanted to run out into the street, to chase after Victor and bring him back into his apartment. He wanted to exchange kisses and move on to something more.

Yuuri rested his forehead against the glass of the window and closed his eyes.

There were many hours left until their date, but at least they’d made proper plans for that evening.

The day dragged on forever. Yuuri was restless. For the first time in a long while he was glad for all the chores – they gave him something to do that let him walk back and forth across his apartment.

Finally evening claimed the city once more. Yuuri dressed and left his apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him. He wouldn’t be back until the next day, unless things went _very_ well and then who knew how long he would be away for?

His heart beat fast as he walked through the streets to the address Victor had texted him and faster still when he reached the right apartment building.

He stepped up to the dial pad, entered the number of Victor’s apartment and waited.

A long tone followed and then, “Hello?” Victor’s voice sounded over the speaker.

Yuuri had planned to flirt, but out here, standing all by himself in front of a number pad and a microphone, all he managed was, “It’s Yuuri. I’m… um… I’m here.”

“Come in!” A loud beep followed as Victor unlocked the door for him and Yuuri opened it with a relieved “Thank you.”

Inside the apartment building left much to be desired. The walls were an ugly grey. The carpets didn’t look clean. There was that nasty smell in the air that many apartment buildings got that resulted from a mix of several strong and unpleasant smells, including that of cigarettes.

The elevators were both out of order and Yuuri was forced to take the stairs.

He couldn’t help thinking then how cheap the place had to be and again he wondered about all the jobs. What were they for?

Victor was definitely a student, Yuuri decided as he reached the right floor. What other explanation was there?

He stopped before Victor’s door with his hand raised to knock and listened. Sure enough, the sound of music and Victor’s off-key singing came through the door.

Yuuri’s heart beat fast in his chest. This was it. Only then he remembered that he barely knew Victor a week, that in that time they’d hardly gotten the chance to tell each other anything about themselves.

Well, it didn’t matter. He’d have time to learn more about Victor later. Yuuri knew that Victor was a good person and that was enough for him.

He knocked.

“Coming!” Victor called and Yuuri heard the sound of approaching footsteps before the door swung open and there he was.

“Hello,” Yuuri said and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Hello.”

They stared at each other for several seconds before at last Victor stepped aside, welcoming Yuuri in.

Victor’s apartment was mostly empty. He had the bare minimum of furniture and a few framed magazine pages up on the walls.

Yuuri took in the sad sight without comment and followed Victor into the kitchen where two mismatched chairs stood next to a table that was already set for two.

“Sorry about the different chairs,” Victor said, looking awkward, “but I had only one in the apartment and had to go borrow a second one from my neighbour.”

Yuuri took in the delicious smell of cooking and turned to give Victor a reassuring look. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just chairs.”

“They should match,” Victor insisted, “but lately I’ve only need one, so I…” He bit his lip and turned away.

Yuuri stepped up to him and put a hand on Victor’s arm. “What’s for dinner?” he asked.

“Chicken with rice,” Victor answered brightly. “Shall we?”

They sat down to their meal and Yuuri soon discovered how very delicious it was.

“You’re a great cook!” Yuuri exclaimed, halfway into his meal.

“Not really,” Victor countered. “I know how to make five different dishes and that’s it.”

“You’re too harsh on yourself. This chicken is the best I’ve ever had.” He met Victor’s eye, preparing himself for a contradiction.

Victor said nothing as he pushed the food around his plate.

As they continued to eat, Yuuri kept throwing glances at him. Victor hadn’t really invited Yuuri for dinner, had he? This wasn’t about food, or about returning a favour, was it? Didn’t he know why Yuuri had come?

When they finished eating, Victor got up to gather the dishes, but Yuuri beat him to it and, despite Victor’s protests, washed all the dishes himself.

“Sorry I don’t have any dessert,” Victor apologized and fidgeted.

“Leave that to me,” Yuuri said.

“Oh?”

Yuuri put a hand on Victor’s cheek as he reached forward with his mouth to catch a kiss. He waited for Victor to respond before sliding his hand down over Victor’s chest. He let his hand wander sideways a little, as though searching for something.

Victor broke the kiss, but Yuuri caught a second one.

His hand trailed further down. When he reached Victor’s stomach he hesitated for a moment, trying to decide on where to go next. Finally making up his mind, his hand travelled over Victor’s pants, rubbing against his crotch.

This time when Victor pulled away from the kiss he gasped. He leaned against the counter and stared into Yuuri’s eyes.

 _Don’t tell me that you’re surprised,_ Yuuri thought. _I thought you knew what I wanted._

Yuuri had seen people look at him with different expressions over the years. Sometimes there was hate, often there was longing or desire, but never had he seen someone look turned on, wanting and sad all at once.

Yuuri took his hand away slowly. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” he offered, feeling a little stupid. That went without saying, surely? Didn’t Victor know that Yuuri would never demand something Victor didn’t want to give?

“I want to…” Victor breathed out. “I do! Honest!” Then, as if to prove his point, he put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders and caught him in another kiss.

For several seconds all Yuuri was aware of was Victor’s tongue in his mouth until Victor broke the kiss to whisper. “The bedroom is that way.” He nodded in a direction behind Yuuri.

“Lead the way,” Yuuri said, stepping away, but catching Victor’s hand.

They walked together, stepping through the rooms as if they were trying to sneak into somewhere.

Victor had an old bed, of the kind that was supported by four legs and had plenty of room under it for any small objects that went mysteriously missing in his room.

Victor sat down on the bed and it creaked under his weight. Yuuri joined him as though it was merely a bench they’d both stopped at to take a breather.

Yuuri looked at Victor and prepared to slip onto his lap and start flirting with him, but Victor chose that moment to slip off the bed so he could kneel on the floor and climb under bed as though he’d dropped something that might’ve rolled under it.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, getting worried about what Victor was about to do.

“Just…” Victor stuck his head out. “Just wanted to get ready. I couldn’t remember if I had enough and I worried I’d run out.”

“Wha –” the question froze on Yuuri’s lips as soon as he saw what Victor was holding out to him.

It was a box of condoms.

Yuuri took it without thinking and opened it to find that there were barely any left. “You…. Uh…” He had no idea how to ask the question and flailed before blurting out, “Do you have sex often?" _You had sex before? I thought this was going to be your first time!_ That was what he’d really wanted to say, but he’d caught himself just in time.

Victor handed Yuuri a bottle. “Not often, not really. I haven’t had any in…” he cast his mind back, “…in a month? I think?”

Yuuri stared at him with his mouth slightly open, then he lowered his eyes to the bottle and finally raised them back to look at Victor. Something about him had seemed so innocent that Yuuri had naturally assumed… Well… Alright, he’d jumped to conclusions.

“Do you want anything else?” Victor asked, still on his knees on the floor.

“Anything… else?” Yuuri repeated. “Sorry?”

“I just…” Victor looked away. “I’ve got all this stuff – accumulated all this stuff over the years. I didn’t know what to do with it, but …um… sometimes it comes in handy.”

“Stuff?” Yuuri asked absently.

Victor pulled out a box. There was a white label on it and a few words in neat, curvy handwriting declared the contents to be “sex toys (small)”. Then Victor produced a second box. This one was labelled “sex toys (big)”.

“Uh…” Yuuri stammered out, still shocked by the discovery that the sad, innocent-looking man had what looked like a very exciting sex life. “What else do you have?”

Victor demonstrated boxes full of leashes and soft rope. He showed Yuuri a riding crop, admitting that he’d only ever used it once. Yuuri watched the stuff pile up in front of him in amazement. He’d seen some of the objects and heard of others, but a few of them completely mystified him.

“So,” Victor said once his collection was completely out on display, “what should we use? What are your preferences?”

It was Yuuri’s turn to blush. He felt his cheeks and ears burn as he lowered his eyes and confessed, “I don’t know. I’ve never had sex before.”


	5. The Face of Victor’s Secret

Victor watched Yuuri get deeply embarrassed and put his hands on Yuuri’s knees. “I will be honoured to be your first,” he declared.

Yuuri raised his head and, as though feeling that he needed to excuse himself in some way, he declared, “It wasn’t for want of trying! I just… never got that far with anyone!”

Victor took Yuuri’s right hand and kissed his knuckles. “This kind of thing doesn’t matter to me.”

Finally Yuuri’s face spread in a smile. “Thank you.”

Victor knew then what he had to do. He put everything away under the bed. All that could wait until another time.

Realizing what Victor intended to do, Yuuri reclined onto his back on the bed.

Victor climbed on after him, dropping onto his side next to Yuuri. He studied Yuuri’s lace top, wondering where it was best to start. There was embroidery around Yuuri’s nipples, covering them completely, but the material over his stomach was completely see-through.

Victor raised his eyes and saw the smile on Yuuri’s lips. He looked completely at ease now.

 _Take it slow,_ Victor told himself, feeling his impatience rise. He traced a circle on Yuuri’s stomach with his finger and placed his whole hand on Yuuri’s stomach. He slid it down to the hem of Yuuri’s jeans.

Victor undid the top button of Yuuri’s jeans and pulled the zipper down. He propped his head up on his arm and watched the zipper as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Once the zipper was undone, he pulled Yuuri’s jeans off him, continuing to take it slow. As soon as the jeans reached Yuuri’s hips he frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, looking alarmed.

“I didn’t realize you were in a bodysuit,” Victor admitted. He let his gaze travel up, taking the whole thing in. It was made entirely of black lace. Victor’s eyes travelled back down. Yuuri was wearing underwear too, as if he was determined to make undressing as complicated as possible. He could see it through the bodysuit, despite the fact that it matched the colour of the bodysuit.

Now was there a zipper or what? He opened his mouth to ask Yuuri, but decided it would be more fun to figure it out on his own.

He pulled the jeans off all the way and then crawled towards Yuuri who spread his legs a little. Victor stopped with his head halfway up Yuuri’s thighs and something caught his eye.

Aha!

He raised his eyes. Yuuri lay with his head on the pillow and waited. Now what would he like? Victor had learned to pay close attention to his partners. It was how he’d kept them all happy, after all.

He reached out with his hand, placing it very carefully over Yuuri’s lower stomach and let it slide down.

Yuuri sighed.

Victor shifted forward. “Now, how do I get this thing off you?” he whispered playfully.

Yuuri opened his mouth to answer and gasped instead.

Victor’s hands moved as if on their own as he watched Yuuri. Slow and steady, he told himself, no need to rush. He stroked Yuuri, feeling him get more worked up with every second. He turned his hand to reach beyond the bulge in Yuuri’s body suit to where two buttons joined the body suit at the bottom.

Yuuri’s hands moved to Victor’s shoulders as he breathed harder. His fingers dug into Victor, making Victor feel as though a surge of electricity passed right through him.

As soon as both buttons were undone he slipped his hand inside. “And you’re wearing underwear too!” Victor whispered, as if surprised. One finger traced out a single vertical strap. A thong, of course.

Yuuri’s fingers trailed over Victor’s shoulders, neck and face until they tangled themselves in his hair. He pulled his legs in, raising his knees, and Victor slipped in under his legs. His left hand stroked Yuuri’s thigh as the right one followed the strap up.

“Victor…”

He planted a kiss on one thigh and then on the other.

Yuuri was getting impatient now. Victor knew he had to get the thong out of their way fast.

“Next time…” Yuuri gasped out, “next time… I’m… I’m not… wearing anything…”

“You mean you’ll come to my house completely naked?” Victor teased. His fingers traced little circles on Yuuri’s buttocks. He tried to match the rhythm of Yuuri’s breathing.

“Yes…” he breathed out.

Victor caught the straps with both hands and pulled them down gently.

Yuuri shuddered as Victor’s hands trailed all the way to his thighs. It was tricky to avoid getting tangled in all the straps, but Victor had done this kind of thing before. He sat up as Yuuri raised his legs up to help Victor pull the thong off completely. He tossed it aside without a second thought.

Their eyes met. Yuuri’s face was all red. His forehead was covered in sweat and his hair was sticking to it.

“May I?” Victor asked softly.

Yuuri took a big gulp of air and nodded.

For several seconds Victor didn’t move, enjoying the sensation of his head trapped between the thighs of a beautiful boy, and then he shifted closer and reached down with his head.

 

Yuuri closed his eyes and breathed hard as Victor sucked him. Victor’s hands gripped his hips tightly, holding him in place.

 _I’m not going anywhere!_ he protested mentally, but the only sounds he could make were gasps.

When Victor released him Yuuri finally opened his eyes and stared down. Victor’s hair was dishevelled and there was a smile on his face. His fingers trailed up Yuuri’s hips and pulled the body suit a bit higher to reveal more of his stomach.

_Just pull it off!_

He reached for the hem of the bodysuit, but Victor placed his hands over Yuuri’s. “Let me,” he whispered.

Yuuri nodded. He couldn’t argue. He was still having trouble breathing.

Victor pressed his mouth against Yuuri’s stomach and kissed it, opening his mouth. He raised his head and pulled the bodysuit up a little more, this time to reveal Yuuri’s nipples.

 _Oh god, he’s taking his time with me!_ Yuuri closed his eyes and wondered how Victor knew just the right thing to do.

His hands were trailing down Yuuri’s back now, ready to slide inside him. Victor’s fingers slipped between Yuuri’s buttocks and Yuuri let out a louder gasp this time. He spread his legs apart and reached for Victor’s face, wishing he’d been wearing something like a tie that he could pull him in by. He had to make do with raising Victor’s chin so they could look each other in the eyes as he asked, “Are you planning on keeping your clothes on for the whole night?”

Victor’s hands slid up Yuuri’s back as he reached down and planted a kiss on Yuuri’s chest. “No, of course not.” He realized Yuuri and sat up, but Yuuri saw what he was about to do and got up to interfere.

“Let me,” he whispered, “please?”

Victor nodded and Yuuri let his hands trail down over Victor’s chest as if he was looking for the buttons of Victor’s shirt. His hands moved slowly and both men watched them, as if they were both equally curious to see where they’d go.

Yuuri paused at Victor’s belt and listened to Victor’s quickened breathing. Did Victor know what Yuuri had in mind? There was only one way to find out.

Yuuri raised his head and met Victor’s eye. He gave Victor a smile that made the man blush and shudder and dropped one hand into Victor’s pants.

“Yuuri!” The exclamation was barely understandable.

Slowly, as if it was hard to let go, Yuuri pulled his hand out. Now, unable to wait any longer, he grabbed the bottom of Victor’s shirt and raised it. He took care in pulling the shirt off, worried that a quick, sudden movement would hurt Victor. Up the shirt went, over Victor’s head and Yuuri tossed it aside in the direction of his own clothes.

There was a warmth in Victor’s eyes. They regarded each other in silence for several seconds, as if they were trying to figure out what to do next.

Yuuri resisted the urge to kiss Victor and undid his pants instead. At last, when there were no more clothes to get in their way, Yuuri sat in Victor’s lap and took his face with both hands.

“Wait… I-I should wash my mouth first…” Victor mumbled.

“Don’t bother,” Yuuri told him. He kissed Victor on one cheek and then on the other. He raised Victor’s chin and covered his jawline with kisses, then his neck and moved on to his chest. He kept going, determined not to stop unless Victor asked him to. Soon he ended up between Victor’s legs.

Yuuri sat up before he could give in to the temptation to do more. “Why don’t you lie down?” Yuuri offered

Victor shifted around and dropped onto the pillow.

For a moment, Yuuri hesitated. Victor gave himself over too easily, all too eager to do whatever Yuuri wanted, and something about it was just a bit off.

 _I will find out what it is,_ Yuuri promised himself. _I don’t know if there is a way to help you, but I will try._

He stroked Victor’s dick and watched Victor’s body shake as he reacted to Yuuri’s touch.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Yuuri whispered and, feeling mischievous, planted a kiss on Victor’s dick.

This got him a loud gasp.

Taking it as encouragement, Yuuri opened his mouth.

Yuuri had never had sex before, this was true, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t know what having sex meant. By the time he pulled away, he had an idea.

“I want you to be on top first,” he said. “Is that alright?”

Victor raised himself to catch Yuuri’s eye. He was all drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, but he managed a nod.

“Don’t get up just yet,” Yuuri whispered, lying down on his side. He let his finger trail over Victor’s chest.

Victor caressed Yuuri’s face. They were both using this breather to properly take each other in.

Forgetting what he’d just said, Yuuri slipped onto Victor’s lap and let his hands trail over Victor’s chest. There was a scar over Victor’s left ribs. Yuuri followed its line with his finger.

“What happened?” he whispered.

“An accident,” Victor told him. “I fell and hurt myself.”

The image of Victor falling made Yuuri’s blood go cold.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered for something to say and wishing he could undo it somehow.

“It’s not your fault,” Victor assured him.

“Still…” He leaned down and pressed his lips against the scar. “I’ll look after you from now on.”

When he raised his head he saw the colour in Victor’s cheeks. “No one has ever said that to me before,” Victor confessed and for a moment Yuuri thought he saw tears in the man’s eyes.

“But what about all those…” He gestured in the general direction of Victor’s stash under the bed.

“They promised to be loyal.” Something about the way he said those words suggested that they hadn’t kept their promise.

Yuuri slid his thumb down Victor’s nose. Victor closed his eyes, no doubt expecting a kiss, but Yuuri went on caressing Victor. He let his fingers go down, past Victor’s lips, his chin, over his neck and stop at his collarbone.

Maybe this was the reason for Victor’s sadness – he’d had his heart broken one too many times to believe that it would ever work out, but then why invite Yuuri in? Why not just avoid people altogether?

 _Have I been coming on too strong?_ Yuuri wondered. _Am I so desperate for sex that I ignore the feelings of others around me?_

But hadn’t he stopped here and now? Hadn’t he done his best to only do what Victor wanted?

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered. His eyes were open and he was looking into Yuuri’s face now. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said, lying down and putting his arms around Victor as in his mind he thought. _Yes. It’s wrong that you were mistreated in this way, but how do I prove to you that I will be different?_

“Listen,” Yuuri said, pulling away and sitting up, “I want you to be honest with me: do you want to have sex with me?”

“Of course I do!” Victor exclaimed, sitting up as well. “Why would you think otherwise?”

Yuuri stared down at his own hands. “I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do,” he said. “If I ever ask you to do something you don’t want to do, or you’re not comfortable with doing, promise you’ll tell me? Please?” He raised his head and met Victor’s eye.

Victor took Yuuri’s hand and held it to his heart, “I promise.”

Yuuri shifted closer to Victor, “Do you have work tomorrow?” he asked.

“No,” Victor lowered his eyes, “but… I need to be somewhere.”

Yuuri put his hands around Victor. “I have some errands I need to see to, so we’ll meet in the evening again. Is that ok?”

There was a hurt look in Victor’s eyes. “You sound like you’re about to leave. I thought we were going to have sex right now?”

Yuuri pulled a hand through Victor’s hair. He planted a kiss on Victor’s left cheek and then on his right and whispered. “We are.”

 

Victor moved aside as Yuuri lay down on his stomach. He put his hand over his heart to slow its beating. Was it possible that Yuuri had meant all that? Would he really be the person who stayed with Victor?

Everyone else had expected Victor to do whatever pleased them most and Victor got used to the idea that he had to keep his boyfriend happy. The suggestion that it could be the other way surprised him.

He stared at Yuuri’s back as he reached for the bottle of lube. At least here was something he knew he was good at.

Remembering their first meeting, Victor rubbed a thumb down between Yuuri’s buttocks.

Yuuri gasped.

Victor rubbed up and down and then reached to plant a kiss there.

“We need…” Yuuri breathed out. “I should’ve brought… some lipstick…”

Victor pulled back to open the bottle of lube.

“Again… please…” Yuuri whispered.

 _I think I know what your preferences are,_ Victor realized. He set the bottle aside, took Yuuri’s buttocks with both hands, holding carefully as though it was something very delicate, and buried his face inside Yuuri.

“Ah! Victor!”

People had reacted differently to what Victor did. Some became demanding, others started to beg.

Victor opened his mouth and felt around with his tongue.

“Please…” Yuuri could barely get the word out. “Oh… please don’t…”

Victor’s fingers stroked Yuuri’s skin. He shifted forward and licked a stripe up to Yuuri’s lower back. Very slowly he pulled away and watched to see what Yuuri would do or say next.

“Oh god…” Yuuri shuddered. “I… uh… I don’t know what I would’ve done, if you’d done this when we first met.”

Victor stroked Yuuri’s back, feeling his face turn red. His imagination played that scenario before his eyes – Yuuri standing at the sinks in the bathroom with the thong lowered to his thighs and Victor’s face buried in his buttocks.

“We can try it in your bathroom,” Yuuri suggested when Victor said nothing.

“Yes… yes, of course…” He grabbed the bottle of lube and poured its contents out feverishly. He could feel his own body demand he move faster. It made him spill some liquid onto the bed.

It was hard to say what Yuuri enjoyed more – Victor’s tongue inside him, or being covered by lube. Victor made a mental note to get flavoured lube before their next night together.

“Victor…” Yuuri gasped, “…are you… what are you waiting for?”

That was enough lube, surely? Victor climbed over Yuuri as Yuuri raised himself on his hands and knees, and they moved against each other.

 

Yuuri spent what felt like a whole day begging for more and it was some time before he let Victor release him.

Victor dropped onto his back as Yuuri turned over and sat up.

“Is it my turn now?” Yuuri asked with a grin. His hair was stuck to his face and his cheeks were red, but he positively shone. He was beautiful.

Victor sat next to Yuuri and kissed his hand. “If you don’t mind?”

Yuuri rubbed a hand over Victor’s chest. “Just tell me where you put the lube.”

 

Yuuri pulled away when he felt his strength start to give out. He could feel himself beginning to drift off. He lay down at Victor’s side with the satisfaction of a job well done. “What time is it?” he whispered.

Victor turned over and reached out for his watch. “Quarter past midnight,” he answered after a short pause.

“How long do you think we’ve been going for?”

Victor dropped onto the pillow as Yuuri pulled a hand through his hair. “Two hours, I think,” he whispered and turned to face Yuuri. “Did you want another round?”

“I think I only want sleep now,” Yuuri dropped his head onto Victor’s shoulder.

“Good night,” Victor whispered, turning the light off and kissing Yuuri’s forehead.

“Sweet dreams,” Yuuri kissed whatever part of Victor he could reach in the dark, which ended up being his neck.

He’d never slept next to someone else before, but Yuuri had little time to think about it as he drifted off with Victor’s arms around him.

 

Yuuri awoke and lay with his eyes closed. He was on his side and someone’s arms were around him. Someone’s stomach was gently pressing against his back. It was so warm.

He opened his eyes and took in the wall before him. Memories from the night before rose in his mind. He thought of the sex they’d had and the things Victor had said.

Yuuri put his hands over Victor’s and clutched them both to his heart. How many terrible boyfriends had given Victor a hard time over the years? Was it possible for Yuuri to undo all the damage they’d done?

He thought of Victor’s apartment and then of his own. Victor’s place looked terrible. How could someone so good live in a place like that?

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered.

“Ah! Sorry! Did I wake you up?” He realized with a gasp that he’d clutched Victor’s hands too tightly and released them only to take them again, being more gentle this time.

“No, no,” Victor kissed the back of Yuuri’s head. “I’ve been awake for a while now.”

Yuuri turned around to face Victor. “What time do you need to go?” he whispered.

“I can stay as long as you want me to,” Victor offered.

This answer didn’t suit Yuuri at all. He sat up and frowned at Victor. “Don’t say that!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want my boyfriend to think that he always has to do what I want. It make me feel like a burden!”

“You’re not a burden,” Victor protested. “I just want to make you happy.”

Yuuri turned away, folding his arms over his chest. “This isn’t making me happy,” he admitted in a low voice. “It doesn’t feel fair, or right.”

Victor laughed softly as he sat up. “But that’s how the world is, isn’t it? One person must sacrifice their happiness so that another one can be happy.”

These words made Yuuri turn to see the expression on Victor’s face. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Victor stared down at his hands. “For a long time I didn’t, but then I saw that I was very naïve not to see the simple truth. It makes sense, after all. There is no way for everyone to be happy at once.”

 _What happened to you?_ Yuuri wondered. _How did you end up like this?_

Victor laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. “I’m sure I sound like a tired, old man and yet I’m just 27. Can you believe it?”

Yuuri was 23 himself, but at that moment he couldn’t help feeling as though Victor was twice his age.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” Victor declared and rose to his feet.

“Yeah…” Yuuri watched him go, unable to decide what to make of Victor.

Then, remembering himself, he got up to brush his teeth and get dressed, rushing through everything so he could help Victor.

 

Monday morning found them both in the bus again, holding hands as they went to work.

Yuuri’s thoughts were all on the night before. He’d expected them to talk more about each other, but somehow they’d ended up spending most of their time together having sex. Some of the memories were making Yuuri blush even now.

“Are you alright?” Victor whispered.

“Just thinking about last night,” Yuuri admitted.

The bus reached their stop and they got off. As soon as they were out of earshot of everyone else, Yuuri asked, “Why don’t you come over tonight after work?”

“I’m working two extra hours to fill in for Madeline,” Victor told him. “You don’t need to wait for me.”

“Where will you be this time?”

“Just helping out at Teavana. They need someone to stand outside and offer tea samples,” Victor explained.

“I’ll come visit you when I’m done,” Yuuri promised.

They reached the doors to the mall and Victor stopped in front of Yuuri. “Promise you won’t wait for me,” he insisted.

Yuuri nodded. The thought had crossed his mind and he was a little surprised that Victor was so insistent he didn’t do it.

“I’ll wait for you at home, then,” he promised.

They exchanged a kiss and goodbyes, and each man headed off on their way.

Yuuri made for the elevators. He worked at a studio several floors above the mall. He modeled for several different companies, but lately most of his work was for a big chain of very popular lingerie stores known as _Victor’s Secret_.

Yuuri got out of the elevator and pulled his badge out of his pocket, which he held up to show to the security guard to be allowed in.

Yuuri often thought how strange it was that, despite the fact that there were giant posters of him hanging around the place, despite the fact that he’d become what some called “the face of _Victor’s Secret_ ,” the guard still insisted on seeing his badge every time.

Yuuri stood next to a big poster showing him holding white underwear in his teeth, as if he was trying to tear it in two, and waited for the guard to let him through.

Once he got permission to pass, he made his way to his change room. He’d learned to walk past seductive posters of himself as if they were nothing more than wallpaper.

Sometimes there were posters of others – men and women in different-coloured lingerie, but mostly they were of him.

At first he’d wondered why they’d put their own posters inside. It felt like a waste of advertisements, especially since they all got plenty of clothes for free. One day it occurred to him that perhaps the owners had intended for the posters to inspire them and he didn’t question it since.

As soon as he reached his dressing room there was a knock on the door on the other side.

“Come in!” Yuuri called, setting his stuff down and pulling his jacket off.

A young man entered the room with a big smile on his face. “Good morning, Yuuri! Did you have a good weekend?”

Yuuri paused for a moment as he considered this question. He’d had a good weekend, alright. More than that – he’d had a _great_ weekend. “Yes, it was wonderful! How was yours, Phichit?”

“Oh my!” Phichit leaned against the mirror and watched Yuuri remove his shoes. “What did you do?”

Again Yuuri considered his answer to Phichit’s question. Phichit was his boss – it was his job to look after all the models and help coordinate the photoshoots. Everyone knew that he had big dreams to move on to the design side of the fashion world. He often boasted to anyone who would listen that lingerie designed by him would be the most seductive and flashiest lingerie imaginable.

But, most important of all, Phichit was Yuuri’s best friend. He knew all about Yuuri’s boyfriend struggles. He’d tried to set Yuuri up with someone a few times himself, but all with no luck.

So, as unprofessional as it may have been in a different situation, Yuuri told the truth. “I spent most of the weekend having sex, actually.”

Phichit leaned closer. “Now I need to know everything! Who is he? How hot is he? He’s got to be very hot, if he’s dating Yuuri Katsuki, the face of _Victor’s Secret_!”

Yuuri straightened up and pulled off his sweater, “His name is Victor, actually.”

An odd idea came to him then, but he dismissed it at once. It wasn’t possible. That would be too strange.

“What?” Phichit laughed. “You hooked up with _the_ Victor?”

“Of course not!” Yuuri assured him. “We both know _the_ Victor doesn’t go out in public, so you can’t just stumble into him.”

“Not exactly!” Phichit countered. “If I were the owner of lingerie company, I’d come out of hiding to meet the face of my company, the man voted sexiest model two years in a row.”

“No,” Yuuri argued back, “ _my_ Victor – the Victor I met, I mean – works odd jobs and lives in a crappy run-down building. He’s definitely very poor.”

“That could all be a very good cover,” Phichit went on insisting. “He lures you in with his poor boy façade and then: bam! You fall in love!”

Yuuri laughed and shook his head. “You’ve got an overactive imagination, Phichit!”

Phichit looked almost indignant at this. “I have an excellent imagination, thank you very much!”

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds before breaking out into laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Phichit said, “hang on to that poor man image, but I reserve the right to say “I told you so,” if it turns out that I was right!”

Yuuri agreed to this with a smile.

“Are you seeing him tonight?” Phichit asked.

“Yes, of course!” Yuuri exclaimed and they both burst out into giggles again.

“Of _course_!” Phichit repeated, imitating Yuuri’s tone of voice. “In that case, I have something for you. The boss wants photos of the other models in this, but maybe you can take it out for a trial run?”

Phichit opened the bag he’d been carrying and took something out to demonstrate to Yuuri. At first it looked like a really long pair of fishnet tights and then Yuuri saw what it was.

“It’s a fishnet body suit,” Phichit explained when Yuuri didn’t say anything.

“How do you put it on?” Yuuri asked, taking it from Phichit’s hands and turning it around.

“Very carefully, like you’d put on a pair of fishnet tights,” Phichit answered. “Do you want to try it on?”

 

At 5:30 pm Yuuri was down in the mall, looking for Victor. He’d waited until the end of the day to put the fishnet bodysuit as Phichit had requested and kept it on. It was hard enough to put it on once. He wasn’t going to suffer through that a second time. Besides, who would ever guess that he was wearing it under his sweater and pants?

He spotted Victor in an apron with a tray of little plastic cups and smiled.

Yuuri came up to him with a big smile. “Hello again, Bunny.”

Victor’s face glowed. “Hello, Yuuri! Would you like to try some tea? I have –”

Yuuri slipped up behind him and put his arms around Victor. “I won’t distract you for long, I promise, but tonight I expect your full attention one me.” It was meant to be just flirting, but he saw how serious Victor looked at those words and regretted them at once.

“I’ll… I’ll need to stop on my way to pick up more condoms and lube,” Victor whispered. His face was serious at those words, as though he’d just promised to stop to get more milk and bread. “I’ll get us edible lube this time.”

“I can get it,” Yuuri offered, mentally filing the words “edible lube” away under “useful to know.”

“No, it’s better if I do it,” Victor insisted. “I know a good store. The owner knows me and always give me a good discount. Sometimes I work there when he has to take time off.”

Yuuri tried not to imagine how often Victor had to have gone to this shop for the owner to know him well enough to offer him a job there. “I expect you’re good at giving customers advice,” Yuuri said as he realized that the silence had dragged on for too long.

“Oh yes!” Victor agreed with lots of enthusiasm. “I’ve tried every product in the shop and when he gets knew stuff the owner lets me have some free samples.”

For a moment Yuuri couldn’t help thinking that he, the lingerie model, should’ve been the one with all that experience and not innocent-looking Victor who worked part-time jobs for… whatever it was he did with the money.

The question of what else Victor did in his life rose in Yuuri’s mind again. Was it possible that it was all a façade like Phichit was convinced it was? But, why? Wasn’t it better to drive up to the office in a fancy car, march in, announce himself and invite Yuuri out on a date?

Yuuri could imagine Victor as an eccentric billionaire, sure, but it seemed a bit much. Unless… unless he thought the wealth would scare Yuuri off.

No, no matter how Yuuri looked at it, it made no sense.

Best just wait until Victor told him. If there was something to tell, Yuuri amended mentally.

“Alright,” Yuuri said, pecking Victor on the cheek and letting him go. “I’ll trust you to bring the right stuff.” _And make sure I’m ready while I wait._

“Thank you. Get home safe!”

Yuuri walked away, stopping several times to turn around and wave back at Victor.

 

Evening came and with it, so did Victor.

The doorbell rang and Yuuri called, “The door is open! Come in!”

He heard the door open and Victor step slowly inside. “Yuuri?” the man called in a low voice.

“Over here,” Yuuri called back.

The sound of approaching footsteps followed and Yuuri saw Victor look around.

Yuuri smiled as Victor spotted him. He lay on the couch in the mesh bodysuit with his arms raised and his legs stretched out before him.

Victor took him in like someone looking at a miracle.

This was the perfect test for Phichit’s theory. If Victor was _that_ Victor, he would give himself away as soon as he saw Yuuri in the latest item from his collection. In theory, anyway.

Victor dropped to his knees and raised Yuuri’s hand to his lips. “I have never seen… It really suits you,” he whispered.

Yuuri sat up. For a moment, he wondered if any of Victor’s exes had ever worn something like this. The idea stung and was accompanied by a very unpleasant feeling. He was jealous. Jealous of terrible people he’d never met, of people who’d turned Victor into the broken person he was.

Yuuri grabbed Victor’s head with both hands and kissed him as hard as he could. He felt Victor put his hands around his back as he responded and Yuuri pulled him up so the man could sit on his lap.

Victor broke the kiss. “I thought…” he began, cleared his throat and tried again. “I thought we’d go to the bedroom.”

“Do you want to eat first?” Yuuri asked, pressing his nose against Victor’s.

“I… I don’t think I’ll make it through the meal…” Victor was staring down at Yuuri’s chest now.

Yuuri had pulled the fishnet bodysuit over his thong, leaving his chest very exposed, much to Victor’s delight.

Victor reached down and planted a kiss on each of Yuuri’s nipples. “I think a finer mesh might be even better,” he whispered.

Yuuri buried his hands in Victor’s hair and didn’t argue.

“And… maybe an opening here…” Victor kissed Yuuri’s nipple again, “…and here…”

Was Victor redesigning the bodysuit? Did this mean that next time – no, no, Phichit’s theory was mad, completely and utterly mad.

It made no sense. It…

Yuuri gasped as Victor opened his mouth and licked one of his nipples. He let Victor explore the many things he could do while Yuuri wore the mesh suit, willing the man to come up with more.

“Yuuri…” Victor slid off Yuuri’s lap, “do you mind taking it off, or do you want to keep it on?”

Finally! Yuuri rose to his feet and very carefully gripped the top of his bodysuit with his fingers and pulled it down. His hands moved slowly over his skin and he watched Victor’s reaction.

Experienced as Victor may have been, even he went weak at the knees as he watched Yuuri.

When the suit reached Yuuri’s thighs, Victor dropped to his knees and finished pulling it off for Yuuri, giving him kisses on the thighs by way of thanks in exchange for this great honour.

“Bedroom,” Yuuri whispered, raising Victor’s chin and smiling down at him.

Victor leapt to his feet and almost ran.

Yuuri followed, suppressing a laugh. He walked with slow, measured steps, as if he was in no great hurry so that by the time he reached the bedroom Victor was already lying on his back.

Victor sat up. “Did you want to –?”

“No, no,” Yuuri reassured him. “Lie back down.”

Whether because he was in a rush, or due to some other reason, Victor lay sideways across the bed. This gave Yuuri an idea. He circled around and crawled over Victor’s head, giving him a brief upside down kiss before continuing onwards to stop right over his crotch. He unzipped Victor’s pants and pulled them out of his way and paused as he felt Victor catch the straps of his thong on either side to pull it off as well.

He didn’t stop to think about what it would be like, or to give himself time to get embarrassed about it. No, he merely played on, determined to get what he wanted.

Two pairs of hands gripped two pairs of hips as both men took each other.

For several minutes, Yuuri couldn’t think anything. It was only afterwards that he realized how perfect this position was.

Yuuri released Victor, raised his head and waited for Victor to let go before lying down on his stomach right at Victor’s side. He was unable to keep the grin off his face as he tried to catch his breath. There had been something very deeply satisfying about the last ten minutes.

His hand slid around from Victor’s outer to his inner thigh where it lingered.

Yuuri drew in a sharp breath. Victor’s hand slipped in, between his buttocks.

 _I want to do something wild with you,_ Yuuri thought. _I want to try things no one has tried before. I want…_

Victor pressed his face against Yuuri’s buttocks and Yuuri gasped as his tongue slipped in.

 _This is so much better upside down!_ Yuuri realized and rubbed Victor’s inner thigh. “You can have me however you like,” he whispered.

Victor released him and for a while he was silent. Then he spoke at last and his voice shook slightly as he whispered. “I was going to say the same thing.” His hands stroked Yuuri’s hips. “I will do anything that makes you happy.”

There it was again – the words were ordinary and innocent enough but something about the way they were said added an extra layer of meaning.

Yuuri sat up and turned around so he could pull Victor into his arms. “Let’s go eat,” he said gently and stroked Victor’s shoulders.

“Yeah…”

Yuuri rubbed his nose against Victor’s cheek. “You must be hungry.”

Victor lowered his head, as if he was thinking that he didn’t deserve food.

He had to find out what it was, Yuuri reminded himself, and it had to be today. He couldn’t keep putting it off any longer.

They showered, dressed and had dinner in the kitchen.

Yuuri had cooked a meal in preparation for Victor’s visit, not wanting Victor to cook again this time.

He watched the way Victor frowned at the meal and knew he’d upset the man by denying him the chance to cook for them.

For a while they were both silent. Yuuri tried to think of a way to start the conversation that would tell him all he needed to know.

“How was work?” Yuuri finally managed.

 

Victor sat in Yuuri’s kitchen and was all too aware that he was in Yuuri’s apartment, eating his food and taking his time.

“How was work?” Yuuri’s voice cut into his thoughts like a knife and Victor raised his head, wondering what the boy was saying. Was it a hint of some kind? Why didn’t he let Victor cook?

“It was fine,” he said and hated himself for giving such a stupid answer. He hadn’t had a good day, but then he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a truly good day, except the day he’d met Yuuri and even then… He suppressed a sigh.

…they shouldn’t have met.

“Victor?” Yuuri asked, all worry in that endearing way of his.

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “How was your day?”

“Well…” Yuuri rested his chin in his hand, “…my boss brought some new clothes for work, but they were so tight!”

Victor imagined Yuuri in a uniform – a shirt that had narrow sleeves and was made from an itchy material. He nodded sympathetically. “I had that once – my clothes shrank in the wash and –”

Yuuri giggled.

“What?” Victor asked. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

“No, no,” Yuuri countered. “What happened with your work clothes? Did you wear them?”

“I had no choice,” Victor admitted. “Luckily for me, Tom was on the same shift as me and had a spare shirt I could…” His voice trailed off as he remembered what had happened afterwards.

“What?” Yuuri asked in a whisper and put a hand over Victor’s.

“Nothing,” Victor said, taking his hand away. “It’s just… look, you shouldn’t… You don’t want to be my boyfriend.”

Yuuri gave him a look that was half-surprised and half-offended. “Why do you think that?”

“Because…” Victor breathed out. He closed his eyes and gathered all his courage for the words that followed. “Because I gave him a blowjob afterwards to say thank you. Then we sort of dated for two weeks and then he dumped me.” In a lower voice he added, “Everyone does eventually.”

“What? Why?”

He couldn’t look into Yuuri’s honest face, so he opened his eyes and pretended to be interested in his plate. “Because sex is all I’m good for. I’m not good boyfriend material. I have nothing to offer and well… everyone sees it eventually.”

“That’s not true!” Yuuri protested, but Victor didn’t let him finish.

“Do you know what the people who work in this mall say about me? They say that if you want free sex you just have to go pretend to be Victor’s boyfriend. They say “Victor is so desperate, he doesn’t care if you’re ugly, or a horrible person”.”

Yuuri put his hands over his face. “Oh my god, Victor! I’m so sorry!”

“This is who I am. This is why you shouldn’t waste your time with me. Go out there and find someone who deserves you, someone amazing, someone –”

Yuuri was standing next to him now, his arms folded around Victor. “I don’t want to find anyone else,” he countered. “You have been so kind to me.”

“Yuuri…”

“Come with me,” Yuuri said.

Confused, Victor rose to his feet and followed Yuuri out of the room. For a moment, he thought they were headed for the bedroom, but Yuuri sat him down on the couch in the living room and slipped on next to him.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “People don’t say nice things about me either,” he said. “They toss insults at me all the time, even at work. They think I don’t hear them, or maybe they don’t care…” He released his legs and turned to face Victor. “I learned not to care what they think. All my life people told me what to do, or what I could, or couldn’t do. Everyone thinks they know best, but they don’t and look at me now – I’m where I always wanted to be.” He went silent for a moment and then gave a little sad smile, “Well, maybe not always.”

Victor turned away. Would Yuuri understand? They all said “follow your dreams,” but was it possible that, if Yuuri said the words, he’d actually mean them?

Victor sighed and forced himself to face Yuuri. “You’re perfect, Yuuri! You’re kind and smart! You’re more beautiful than a model!”

Yuuri giggled.

“What?” Victor asked. He’d said something wrong again, hadn’t he?

“I _am_ a model!” Yuuri exclaimed.

“What?” Victor sat back on the couch and stared.

“You know…” Yuuri pulled off his sweater, slipped out of his pants and stood before Victor in his thong. He turned his back to Victor and gave him a look over his shoulder. Then he turned and leaned forward, sliding one hand down his thigh.

Victor felt all the blood rush to his face.

Yuuri straightened up. “I’m a lingerie model. I’m… the face of _Victor’s Secret_ , funnily enough.” He paused and looked into Victor’s face. “You know – the lingerie company? I thought you knew – the posters are everywhere.”

Victor lowered his eyes. Yuuri was further out of his league than he’d thought. “I don’t… I don’t look at the posters,” he mumbled.

Yuuri slipped back onto the couch and put his arms around Victor. “I’m not going to stop being your boyfriend,” he whispered, “not unless you really want me gone.”

Victor closed his eyes. It came to this, of course it did. Someone as kind as Yuuri wouldn’t be bothered by all that. Victor could have nothing at all and Yuuri wouldn’t be bothered by it.

“There’s a reason I work all these jobs,” he began. His heart beat fast in his chest. He was terrified, as if he was about to confess to a great crime and, perhaps, to some it _was_ a crime. “There’s a reason I need all that money…” He dropped his head in his hands.

He had to get all the words out now, but it was almost impossible to continue. It was as though saying it aloud made it all worse somehow. “I’m…” he licked his dry lips. “I’m…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is the 69th fic I posted to ao3, I thought it was only fitting that there would be a 69 scene in it at some point.


	6. Eros Gets an Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that I would’ve posted this fic ages ago, except that for a while I was talking to an artist about a collab for it, but – alas – it never happened.

Victor lay next to Yuuri, holding him close to his chest. He could feel Yuuri’s steady breathing, but at that moment for Victor sleep was impossible.

He kept repeating their conversation in his head over and over again, wondering how he’d failed to convince Yuuri that it was better for him to dump Victor.

_“I’m not… This is not who I wanted to be…” Victor stammered out. “I’m trying to be – that is, I am…”_

What a terrible way to explain himself! Why couldn’t he be good with words? There are so many good ways to explain his situation. It was just too bad that he hadn’t thought of a single one and that he still couldn’t think of one.

_“I’m a figure skater, or… or I try to be, but I don’t have money, so… I have all these jobs. The owner of the mall is a family friend.”_

He’d expected Yuuri to be disappointed. All of his exes had been. To Victor’s great pain, no one seemed to care about figure skating these days.

_“That’s amazing, Victor!” Yuuri exclaimed with a smile._

Why? Why was he impressed?

In the end, Victor had promised to take Yuuri with him to a skating rink, although god only knew why he’d done it.

He couldn’t stop thinking that what Yuuri saw when he looked at Victor was nothing more than an illusion and that any day now Victor would do something to break that illusion.

 _Yuuri, please,_ he thought. _Don’t let it get serious between us. My heart won’t be able to take it when we break up._

But Yuuri slept on, blissfully unaware of Victor’s suffering.

It was so quiet. Only the sound of Yuuri’s breathing broke the silence of the night. The steady rhythm was soothing and Victor could feel himself slipping into sleep.

He’d sort it all out later, tomorrow, some other time…

 

Yuuri woke up to the sensation of someone covering his face and shoulders with kisses. He turned his head, but his eyes remained closed.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered into his ear, “it’s time to get up.”

“Do I have to?” he mumbled. “Can’t I have five more minutes? Please?”

“You’ll be late,” Victor reminded him. His breath tickled Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri giggled.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. Let me make it up to you,” Victor offered and his head slipped down under the blankets. He planted a kiss over Yuuri’s stomach.

Yuuri’s eyes snapped open and he sat up sharply. “Victor!”

He sat back. “What’s wrong?”

“After…” Yuuri sat with his mouth open for several seconds and, then, realizing how odd he looked, he closed it. He’d meant to say “after what you told me yesterday, how can I let you do anything? I would be no better than all your exes!” He’d caught himself just in time, before he could hurt Victor’s feelings.

“After?”

“After,” Yuuri repeated, putting his hands over Victor’s. “If we start now, I won’t get out of bed before noon.”

He took Victor’s face and kissed him before the man could apologize. “Let’s make breakfast together,” he offered after breaking the kiss.

“Yes…” Victor grinned. “I know! We can cook, wearing aprons and nothing else!”

Yuuri’s face froze as he had an image filled with aprons, Victor’s bare buttocks and – for some reason – cream. “Next time,” he promised both Victor and himself. _Oh god! Didn’t Phichit design something just for this?_

He saw Victor get ready to make another suggestion of the kind and tried desperately to change the subject, “When is your next skating practice?”

He saw by the way Victor’s face fell that the question hurt him. “Saturday,” he answered after a long pause. “But I don’t –”

“Do you practice twice a week?”

“Sometimes three times,” Victor added.

 _I think I see it now…_ Yuuri had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “Why don’t we go after work today?”

“You don’t have to…” Victor began to protest, but Yuuri took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Alright. We’ll go after work,” Victor agreed.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered. He slipped out of the bed and went to brush his teeth.

Yuuri hated mornings. He had a hard time getting up early and usually struggled for several hours before he was properly awake. That morning was one of the best mornings of his life.

They stood together in the kitchen, working to make breakfast.

Yuuri made coffee and toast while Victor made poached egg. Once the eggs were ready, Victor scooped them carefully out of the water and put them on the slices of toast Yuuri had prepared for him. With a small smile Yuuri added the finishing touches and breakfast was ready to go.

Victor took Yuuri by the hands and kissed him. “That was wonderful!”

Yuuri pressed his forehead against Victor’s, feeling his heart race. “We need to eat it before it gets cold,” he whispered, but they held on for just a little bit longer, unable to let go of each other so soon.

At last, they took their seats on opposite sides of the small kitchen table and ate.

 _I want a Saturday morning like this,_ Yuuri thought, _but I want it to start with mind-blowing sex and when we’re both too tired for more, we can shower and make breakfast together and flirt._

He finished eating and got up to take the dishes to the sink, stopping on the way to kiss Victor on the top of his head.

Again they held hands on their way to work and exchanged promises to meet after, speaking as if they were exchanging vows.

Yuuri went up to his dressing room with a smile on his face and only when he got there and the door closed behind him did he drop into a chair and cry.

“Oh, Victor!” he exclaimed as sobs shook his whole body.

 

That evening they met in front of _Victor’s Secret_. They hadn’t intended to, but Yuuri walked towards Victor and Victor walked towards Yuuri and they met halfway.

The moment Yuuri spotted Victor, he ran as if they’d been separated for weeks instead of hours. He caught Victor in a tight hug and held on for a long time. “I missed you!” he exclaimed.

It occurred to him then that he’d been afraid that they wouldn’t see each other, that something unexpected would prevent them from ever meeting again.

 _“I’ve got a burning desire for you, baby,”_ the store’s music insisted.

They held on for a long time before they could find the strength to let each other go, but only to take each other’s hands and walk away together.

Victor talked about dinner plans, making Yuuri wonder if he’d forgotten his promise.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, Victor stopped walking and gave Yuuri a serious look. “We don’t have to,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need…” His voice trailed off as Yuuri rubbed his arm.

“Take me skating,” Yuuri whispered in a way that was guaranteed to get him anything he wanted.

Victor just nodded.

They had to make a stop on the way to grab food. Not having enough money for eating out, Victor had to offer Yuuri dinner leftovers, feeling extremely embarrassed about it.

Victor found himself imaging a different reality – one where he was rich and successful. He imagined taking Yuuri out to an expensive restaurant and, after a delicious dessert and a couple of glasses of the finest wine, he would invite Yuuri to an outdoor skating rink. He imagined a large public rink lined with trees covered in strings of lights. He imagined the stars glowing brightly in the sky above them. He imagined slow romantic music filling the chilly night air and a warm kiss exchanged under the night sky.

Reality wasn’t as pleasant as that. He and Yuuri walked to the rink as the sky grew dark. Victor’s rink was in an old building and too often he found it impossible to practice thanks to a hockey game between two local teams.

This time there was no one there except for the bored lady at the front desk. She waved them both through without another word. Victor had been lucky there – the owners of the rink were his aunt and uncle, which let him skate for free.

He took Yuuri to the lockers where he kept his pair of skates. They were his pride and joy. They were also an old gift from long ago when his parents still believed that their son would grow up to become an Olympic champion. He found an old pair for Yuuri to borrow and before long they were both out on the ice.

There was that thrill again, the joy at being back in his element and for several brief minutes Victor forgot all about his troubles. He went around the ice by himself and executed a perfect spin.

The sound of applause made him turn and he saw Yuuri standing out on the ice, watching him. “That was beautiful!” Yuuri exclaimed, skating up to him. “Do something else!”

Emboldened by this reaction, Victor attempted a jump. It was merely a double toe loop, so he wasn’t surprised when he landed successfully.

“Something else,” Yuuri asked. “Please?”

Victor showed off a double axel and, gathering his courage, jumped the triple toe loop.

He should’ve known. He wasn’t an Olympic champion, or even a national champion. Heck, he wasn’t even in the top ten figure skaters of the world. Was it any surprise when he fumbled the landing and fell?

“Are you ok?” Yuuri asked, skating over to where he lay on the ice.

Victor raised his head. “I’ll be fine,” he assured Yuuri. _My pride, on the other hand, is smashed to pieces._

Yuuri held his hand out. “Do you have a routine?”

“Yeah,” Victor nodded, taking the offered hand and rising to his feet. “It’s not very good, though.”

“Can I see it?” Yuuri’s eyes lit up with excitement and there was just no arguing with that.

Knowing he would fall more than once, he skated out to the middle of the rink and imagined he could hear his music playing.

It started off alright, but when he got to the first jump he messed up the takeoff and tumbled down to his knees. Still, he got up and kept going. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just stop right there. He knew Yuuri was watching him closely and couldn’t give up. He went through the skate, messing up every single jump. He tried to simplify them, but that didn’t help. By the end he was so exhausted he couldn’t even do the spin properly.

He held the final pose for a few seconds and dropped onto the ice. “I’m terrible!” he exclaimed, covering his face with his hands. “I know I am! I’m –”

Yuuri skated over to him. “You just need practice,” he said.

Victor raised his head. That was what they all said. Practice. As if it was that easy! As if he could magic money out of thin air and let it all take care of itself! _Practice_!

“Why don’t you practice every evening?” Yuuri asked.

He did, Victor thought wretchedly. Normally, in the boyfriendless periods of his life he spent every spare minute practicing, but everything took a back seat when a new boyfriend came along.

He sought about for a reason and fell back on the usual excuse. “But what about you? I thought we could be together. You don’t want to spend all your evenings here, watching me fall on my face.”

Yuuri took Victor by the hands and they went around the rink together. “What about your coach? Don’t you have one?”

Victor stiffened at the word “coach.” “Not really,” he admitted. “I can’t afford to pay a coach to always be there, so I just pay someone to be there for the competitions.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up at this. “Is that enough?”

“Coaches know better than to waste their time with me,” Victor insisted.

“I think I know why you fell,” Yuuri went on, determined to ignore every painful angle of this conversation. “It’s the way you went into that first jump: it’s a bit awkward, so it’s very hard to jump and land properly.”

And then Victor realized that there was something unusual about their conversation. “How do you know so much about figure skating and…” he stared down at their feet. Yuuri was moving backwards flawlessly.

“I used to take figure skating lessons,” Yuuri admitted. “Until I got to high school and well…” he gave a sad smile, “one day I decided I wasn’t good enough and went into modelling instead. It’s not very good qualifications, I know, but I’m willing to be your coach, if you take me.”

“No, no,” Victor protested. “I can’t let you do this. You don’t want to waste your time here and on me. I don’t deserve it and I have no way to pay you back. Even sex every day won’t be enough. No, you don’t want –”

“Why are you deciding for me what I do and do not want?” Yuuri had spoken the words in a calm tone, but for some reason the question made Victor flinch. Yuuri put a hand on his arm. “I can be your coach for now until we find you someone better. What do you say to that? You don’t need to pay me back, really.”

“But that’s not fair to you!” Victor protested.

“Then how about you pay me back if you win a medal?”

Victor shook his head. “You won’t get anything that way.”

Yuuri looked like he was about to argue, but Victor saw the expression on his face change and knew that he changed his mind. “Why don’t you skate it again?” Yuuri suggested at last.

It took some coaxing on Yuuri’s part to get Victor to go over his routine, after which he got Victor to go over it again and again until the lady who’d let them in showed up to tell them to get out.

Victor followed Yuuri all the way back to his apartment and dropped onto the couch, feeling as if his legs couldn’t support for a second longer.

“We’ll need to work on your stamina,” Yuuri announced, as if he really was going to be Victor’s coach. He took Victor’s jacket and then helped him out of his shoes.

Victor lay on his back, feeling miserable. “I’m so sorry, Yuuri! But I don’t think I can… I mean I don’t’ think I have any strength left for sex…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri assured him, stroking Victor’s arms. “Do you want a glass of water?”

“No,” Victor said with a mouth that felt as if it was as dry as a dessert.

“Right.” Yuuri rose, disappeared into the kitchen to return with a glass of water several minutes later.

Victor downed its contents and watched Yuuri bring him another one.

After several glasses Victor managed to persuade Yuuri that he wasn’t thirsty anymore.

Yuuri helped him off the couch and half-carried him into the bedroom.

“You don’t need to take care of me,” Victor protested.

“I want to,” was Yuuri’s response. “I really enjoy it.” There must’ve been an incredulous look on Victor’s face because Yuuri added, “Honestly, I do!”

Victor let Yuuri lead him into the bedroom, said nothing as Yuuri helped him out of his clothes and then draped a blanket over him.

“I know!” Victor exclaimed. “I can still use my mouth, so if –”

“Go to sleep,” Yuuri insisted and kissed his forehead.

“But… I bought edible lube and we still haven’t…” Victor began to protest. He drifted off partway into his sentence and didn’t get to hear or see how Yuuri reacted to those words.

 

Yuuri woke up early. He lay next to Victor and stared at his sleeping face. Last night had been painful. Every new proof of the injustices Victor had had to endure was like a stab of a knife right in the heart.

Victor deserved to be the best. He deserved adoring fans. Finally he deserved to be loved, truly and properly loved. So how could the universe allow it to be otherwise?

He held on to Victor and vowed to be the one to right the big mistake the universe had made.

 _I’ll see to it that you’re happy,_ Yuuri thought.

He pressed his cheek against Victor’s chest and listened to the steady beating of his hear.

It was impossible to sleep now. Judging by how light it was in the room, the alarm would go off soon.

Yuuri sat up and turned the alarm off. Maybe Victor didn’t need to get up early today. He’d been so tired the day before that he deserved to sleep in a little.

Armed with this thought, Yuuri went to the bathroom. He could feel his own fatigue and regretting getting up. Maybe those last few minutes would’ve helped him feel more…

More…

He blinked sleepily at his reflection as he brushed his teeth. What had he been thinking about?

 _Victor_ , his mind supplied helpfully. _Right, Victor_.

He washed his mouth and headed back to the room, ready to lie back down on the bed.

_No! Focus! Come on!_

His eye fell on the poster in the corner. It showed all the models working for _Victor’s Secret_ standing together in lingerie that barely covered anything.

What he needed now was to get in the right mood, he decided with a brain that was half-asleep.

He went to his drawer and hunted around until he found a black thong lined with lace on the front and slipped it on. He returned to the bathroom and stood before the mirror, studying his reflection critically. All he needed now was some mascara and lipstick. He fetched his makeup and proceeded to put it on, forgetting all about everything else.

Suddenly he became aware of a pair of hands sliding his thong down and a finger sliding in between his buttocks soon after.

Yuuri dropped the mascara brush and exclaimed in surprise, “Victor!”

“Good morning…” the man whispered and kissed the top of Yuuri’s buttocks where the division just began.

Yuuri gasped.

It was like their first meeting, but so much better. Victor rubbed Yuuri’s skin, covering it with a liquid suspected was the edible lube he’d mentioned before.

Yuuri stood with his legs slightly apart and the thong stretched over his hips and gasped. He held on to the counter as he thought that _this_ was what he’d wanted that time they were together.

Victor’s tongue slipped over Yuuri’s skin, making him shudder.

He raised his head and stared at his reflection. His face was all red.

Victor switched to planting kisses on Yuuri’s skin.

Would Yuuri pass out or would Victor try to take him right there while he stood against the counter?

Victor pulled away and gently stroked Yuuri’s hands with both hands.

Yuuri remembered then that a few minutes ago he’d been trying to prepare for work. His eye rose to the mirror again. He could see Victor’s hands on his skin and on one side of him he could see Victor’s hair.

He risked a look back over his shoulder. Victor was on his knees, his hair still dishevelled from sleep.

Yuuri remembered about those boyfriends and bit his lip in frustration. He wasn’t going to be like them!

“Victor, I… uh… I need to go to work.”

He turned around completely this time and pulled Victor up to his feet and into a tight hug, doing his best to ignore that they were both naked.

_Why do you always give your whole self away like this?_

He kissed Victor’s cheek. “Darling,” he whispered and felt Victor shudder, “hold that thought until tonight.”

Victor stammered out something in protest and Yuuri caught the words “properly thank you.” They cut like a knife, but Yuuri forced himself to keep smiling as though nothing was wrong.

“I need a shower,” he said, letting Victor go and looking into his face. “We’ll talk later, ok?”

He closed the door after Victor and leaned against it, feeling his heart beat fast.

Then, remembering that it must be getting late, he washed his makeup off and jumped into the shower, making the water as cold as possible.

A thought occurred to him then that cooled him down even faster: Victor wasn’t giving himself away because of his feelings for Yuuri. He wasn’t on his knees to show love or adoration. In his mind sex was tied to saying thank you, with returning a favour. That’s why the question of choice didn’t bother him as much as it bothered Yuuri.

He felt the tears rise to his eyes and put his hands over his face. What could he hope to do for someone who thought like that?

The water fell around him, enveloping him in a cold embrace.

He thought of Victor’s kindness and his big infectious smiles and sighed. _I will give you anything to make you happy. How can I make you see how I feel? Or explain to you that I don’t need any kind of thanks?_

He’d have to find a way, he decided.

 

It was the end of his day at work and Yuuri was in the dressing room again, sitting before the mirror and contemplating his reflection in silence. He’d promised to meet Victor in a half hour, but for the first time since they met he didn’t feel like rushing to see Victor.

Yuuri lowered his head into his hands. The more he thought about it, the more painful it became, but at the same time he knew that walking away was impossible. Victor needed someone dependable who could show him that life wasn’t about using people and robbing them of all they had.

A glance at the clock told him that Victor would be finished soon. Yuuri rose and got dressed.

Victor would practice regularly, Yuuri would make certain of it.

 

Night claimed the city and found them both in bed. Again Victor had been too exhausted for any talk. He’d simply walked into the bedroom and dropped onto Yuuri’s bed without another word.

Yuuri had joined him soon after.

He took Victor’s hand into his and placed it over his own heart. Then he reached out and trailed his fingers over Victor’s hair and down over his cheek.

_How do I teach you to love yourself?_

He planted a gentle kiss on Victor’s nose and shifted closer to Victor so he could put the man’s arms around himself.

 

This time they woke up at the same time with the alarm’s ring.

Yuuri kissed Victor’s cheek and slipped away before the man could do anything more.

They went through the usual morning routine side by side and for a moment Yuuri forgot about Victor’s troubles. There was that wonderful feeling inside him and it made his heart sing. For a while he couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but when he put the kettle on as beside him Victor opened the fridge, he had his answer.

It was almost as if they were married.

Victor turned around to face him and talk about breakfast. Yuuri nodded along. Then he stepped forward and helped get everything from the fridge, feeling as if he was watching it all from the outside.

Unable to help himself, Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s cheek as Victor finished making the first pancake.

Victor laughed.

Yuuri stepped forward and opened his mouth, about to whisper something dirty in his ear, but he caught himself just in time. He stroked Victor’s cheek instead.

This earned him another smile.

They made ten pancakes to split between the two of them and some to leave for later.

“You know,” Victor said as they sat down to breakfast, “I just had an idea. I know I don’t have anything anyone would ever want, but I need to repay you somehow and I was thinking: what if you married me?”

Yuuri froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

Victor stared down at his plate. “I know it’s not a very appealing offer, but I will do everything you want. I’ll cook and clean for you, and have sex with you, of course.”

Still Yuuri said nothing.

“And when you get tired of me,” Victor went on in that self-sacrificing way of his, “we can get a divorce. Actually, thinking about it, I suppose you don’t even need to go to the trouble of marrying me. I could just promise to be your husband until you don’t want me around anymore.”

Yuuri’s heart tightened in his chest. It ached so much that he put a hand over it, as if hoping that would take some of the pain away.

Victor raised his eyes from his plate and smiled at Yuuri. How could he smile while saying something like this? How? “What do you say, Yuuri?”


	7. Eros Tries a New Job

Even as he said it, Victor knew it was a bad idea, but for some reason his mouth refused to listen to him and kept going. “I know it’s not a very appealing offer, but I will do everything you want. I’ll cook and clean for you, and have sex with you, of course.”

Yuuri wasn’t saying anything and still Victor kept talking. His mouth seemed to be running on its own. “And when you get tired of me, we can get a divorce.” An idea occurred to him then. It was just a shame that his mouth still kept going, “Actually, thinking about it, I suppose you don’t even need to go to the trouble of marrying me. I could just promise to be your husband until you don’t want me around anymore.”

He could see by the look on Yuuri’s face what his answer would be before he could say anything. He smiled, feeling foolish

“What do you say, Yuuri?” he asked. _Don’t be nice. Just get it over with._

“When I was small,” Yuuri began and Victor could feel the long story coming that would end in a flat out “no”, as if he’d already heard the whole thing. “I sometimes imagined my life as an adult. I  had all kinds of strange ideas, of course, but one that I really liked was the idea of marrying the love of my life and living happily with them.

Victor lowered his head. Yes, of course. How could Yuuri expect anything less?

“I see now that I shouldn’t have moved so fast,” Yuuri added. “I made a mistake. I hope you will forgive me.”

What did that mean? Victor waited for the rest, hoping that he would be able to make sense of Yuuri’s words soon.

Yuuri put his hand over Victor’s. “Let’s start again,” he offered. “Will you be my friend, Victor?”

Victor stared at Yuuri in silence. Friend? Not boyfriend anymore? He didn’t dare ask the question. After all, he didn’t deserve to be Yuuri’s boyfriend in the first place.

“I think we should be roommates,” Yuuri continued. “If we live together we can split the cost of everything. This way you can work less hours per week and focus on your training.” He looked around himself. “I know my apartment isn’t big, but if you don’t mind selling some of your things, then we should both fit.”

Victor realized he was sitting with his mouth open. How did Yuuri do it? How was he such a good person?

“I have some money saved up,” Yuuri went on, “but I’ll have to keep working to support us.”

“But that’s not fair to you!” Victor protested.

“We’ll do this for now and you can work to pay me back later.” It sounded logical, but how could Victor ever pay Yuuri back? How could he figure out just how much he owed him?

Victor had been raised to return his debts. He didn’t like to go for long periods of time, knowing that he owed someone something and also knowing that he was railing to pay them back. What if something happened to him before he gave it all back? What if the person needed money urgently and Victor still couldn’t give it?

His face twisted in panic, but Yuuri put a calming hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll find a way to make it all work.”

For a moment the possibility of him doing well in a competition appeared before his eyes and he knew that he had to take it. No matter how small the chance was, he had to risk it and hope for the best. He’d spent too many years doing the same thing and failing.

Victor hung his head. He didn’t like doing this, but what else was there? “I can’t let you carry the weight of everything alone,” he said. “What if something unexpected happens?”

“Victor –” Yuuri began, but Victor didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t have anyone here who can help you,” he said as his hands clutched each other painfully. “But my parents will make sure you’re… They’ll help if something happens.”

Yuuri gave him a frightened look. “What are you talking about?”

“Just… you know… just in case.” He spotted the writing pad and pen on the fridge and got up to retrieve them. “They live in St. Petersburg,” he said as he wrote down their phone and address. “And I know that Russia is far away, but if you go to them, they’ll do everything in their power.” He handed the piece of paper to Yuuri who took it with a nod.

Victor fidgeted with the pen. “I… uh… I’ll do it. What you… I like your plan. I want you as my coach.”

Yuuri reached out and took Victor’s hand with both of his own. “Thank you,” he whispered.

 

Before long Skate America was upon them. For Victor it was the first competition of the season. Fortunately for them, it was only a three hour bus ride away. But before they even started packing for their trip Yuuri sat Victor down for a conversation.

“There are a few things I want to know… as your coach.” He tried to give Victor a warm and reassuring look. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing at an interview and embarrass you.” He was silent for several seconds as he considered his next few words until at last he said, “I watched all your previous competitions, but I didn’t look at anything else. I hope that’s alright with you?”

Victor looked uncomfortable at Yuuri’s admission and Yuuri worried that he’d made a mistake. He should’ve talked to Victor before watching videos of his skating.

Finally, with what Yuuri suspected was a great exertion of will, Victor met Yuuri’s eye. “What did you want to know?”

The questions Yuuri had prepared froze on his lips and he knew he wouldn’t have the courage to ask them. “Is there… Is there a question reporters always bother you with? I suspect they’ll ask about me, so maybe you have something you want me to say?”

“I’m not worried about that question,” Victor replied. “The last few years I switched coaches so many times that they don’t comment on it anymore.

 _Doesn’t mean that they won’t,_ Yuuri thought. _Worse – they might recognize me and wonder how it happened. And then what? I’ll just have to come up with something when it happens, I suppose._

“But just because I’ve moved to America, doesn’t mean that I won’t represent Russia anymore!” Victor suddenly exclaimed and Yuuri could tell by his tone alone that it was a sensitive subject for him. “I know they won’t pick me for the Olympic team, but I don’t want to be called a traitor just because I wanted to participate in the Olympics!” Victor blushed and lowered his head. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, please,” Yuuri begged him. “I think your loyalty is very admirable.”

“Do you really think so?” Victor asked, looking into Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri nodded.

For a while they were both silent, unsure of what to say next and then Victor lowered his head again. “Not that any of that matters. The Olympics are next year and I can’t change what country I represent now. To top it all off, they’re in Sochi, which means that they’ll take extra care in picking who will represent Russia. They want as many gold medals as they can get, after all.”

Yuuri nodded. He knew that Victor believed he had no chances whatsoever of making it into the Olympics, but at the same time it was hard not to have that little bit of hope, especially at Victor’s age when many skaters considered retiring from competitive skating.

 _They will ask Victor why he hasn’t retired already,_ Yuuri thought, _and I’ll have to think of an answer that sounds good._

“You don’t have to come with me,” Victor said, repeating what he’d already said several times before. “You have work and –”

“I’m taking time off,” Yuuri cut in. “I’m entitled to three weeks of vacation and I already put all the dates of your competitions in the calendar.” Not that they actually _knew_ where he was going, but that was just detail. He hadn’t told the whole story to Phichit. It felt too much like revealing Victor’s deepest secret.

“It’s too late to cancel my vacation now,” Yuuri declared and watched Victor struggle with his conscience.

“Alright,” he accepted at last.

 

Yakov Feltsman, coach to the best and most promising Russian figure skaters wasn’t looking forward to Skate America. In fact, if he was entirely honest with himself, he always dreaded every competition with Victor in it.

The press had enjoyed writing about their argument, simplifying everything as usual and making Yakov the guilty party. They didn’t understand what had happened and they had no way of knowing how every time Yakov watched Victor skate he experienced physical pain as if he himself was the one falling on the ice.

 

_“Vitya, you can’t keep skipping practice! How do you expect to compete in the Rostelecom Cup? That’s less than two weeks away!” Yakov shouted the words into the phone as soon as he’d heard Victor’s hello._

_“Yakov, I have a boyfriend now. I can’t neglect him!” Victor pointed out not unreasonably._

_Yakov’s hands tightened into fists. Victor had been skipping practice for a week straight. Could he come for a couple of hours a day, at least?_

_“I’m not telling you that you can’t have a social life. I just think that you can’t neglect figure skating completely.” It was hard to keep his voice steady, but he did his best. Victor was young. It was only natural that he wanted to go out with someone and have fun._

_“I’ll be there for practice, of course!” Victor reassured him. “And I promise to be there at the competition! It’s not like I’m going to skip that!” He laughed and hung up._

Yakov would never forget that competition. Victor, the favourite for the gold medal went out on the ice and made one mistake after another. Instead of first, he’d ended up in last place.

Everything only spiralled further out of control after that. Victor skipped all his practice only to get dumped the night before his next competition. What followed were tears and another last place.

He’d ended his senior debut with nothing – no medals and no boyfriend. All hopes and expectations had been shattered and the world turned away to look for another favourite.

Yakov had thought that the experience would teach Victor a lesson, but his second year in seniors was very much the same.

Nothing helped – neither pleas, nor threats and, unable to deal with the situation any longer, Yakov refused to continue being Victor’s coach.

At the time it felt like his only choice, but over the years he questioned himself. _Had_ it been his only choice? Had he merely given up because it was easier than to keep fighting?

Years passed and he watched Victor throw his talent away, powerless to do anything to stop it.

This was the mood in which he made his way to Skate America and he steeled himself to witness another embarrassing loss for Victor.

Sadly, that season didn’t promise to be a good one. The Russian figure skating team (if Yakov was entirely honest with himself) was in desperate need of a big shakeup. Georgi Popovich couldn’t focus on his skating, his mind too full of Anya – his ex who’d broken up with him at the end of the summer. Yuri Plisetsky was arrogant and rebellious, refusing to listen to Yakov’s instructions, convinced that he knew best The others didn’t bear thinking about. They all skated well, but Yakov knew they could do so much better. Who would force them to work harder? The figure skating world as a whole seemed to be convinced that they were all doing well enough.

Perhaps they would work harder as they got closer to the Olympics, Yakov tried to tell himself, but a part of him suspected that even the promise of Olympics wouldn’t be enough to give them all the much-needed push. Well, if there was one thing Yakov had learned in his long career as a coach, it was that there was always hope.

Group 1 was called up and Yakov forced his attention back to the skating rink before him.

Victor stood on the ice with five skaters who were debuting in seniors this year. To the old coach’s surprise, Victor was smiling.

Yakov followed his line of sight and saw a handsome young man smile back. Another boyfriend, then.

Something about this young man was familiar and as the announcer introduced the skaters and they went through their warmup Yakov tried to remember where he could’ve possibly seen this man before.

Naturally, he first thought the man was a skater, but, no – Yakov’s memory was very good when it came to figure skaters, their names and the countries they represented. Who could he be, then? A journalist? No, that would make no sense. He was quite certain that Victor wouldn’t date one of them.

Two routines went by and still Yakov couldn’t place him. Victor was out on the ice talking to the young man and Yakov realized in horror that this wasn’t just Victor’s boyfriend, but his coach as well – a combination that Yakov strongly disapproved of.

The men stood with their foreheads pressed together. Victor’s eyes were closed and the other man was giving him words of encouragement.

“Next on the ice, representing Russia – Victor Nikiforov!”

A murmur and some scattered applause followed as Victor skated away and around the rink.

The young man caught Victor’s eye and blew him a kiss and in that moment Yakov knew exactly where he’d seen the boy before.

His memory showed him the image of one of the lockers in the men’s changing room back in his skating rink in St. Petersburg. A big poster hung in the locker with a handsome boy on it, wearing lace panties and a top to match. He couldn’t remember exactly which of the skaters owned the poster, but he’d once stumbled into a heated argument over which of the skaters deserved to date the boy on the poster and how they would get his number. Two days later Yakov learned that the women’s change room had witnessed a very similar argument.

So this was Victor’s new coach.

On the ice, Victor jumped for the first time in his routine.

 

To Yuuri’s mild surprise, all his fears about the press had turned out to be unjustified. They ignored both him and Victor completely, preferring instead to concentrate all their efforts on the other skaters.

Yuuri suspected that, as far as the press was concerned, this season was going to be just like all the others for Victor Nikiforov. Victor didn’t comment and Yuuri said nothing as well, not knowing what he could possibly say about something like this. It was a blessing in disguise, however: it meant that Yuuri didn’t have to deal with everything all at once. He knew this was a small competition leading up to a bigger one, but the enormity of it all caught him off guard.

Victor didn’t bat an eyelid while Yuuri fretted and worried as if he was the one about to go out on the ice.

And then he saw the response Victor got when he prepared to skate his routine and Yuuri understood the other feeling that must have plagued Victor all these years. Everyone had already dismissed him as uninteresting, even the fans.

He met Victor’s eye, saw his smile and swallowed down all his indignation. This was Victor’s chance to prove them all wrong.

The music began and Victor launched into his routine. He’d spend many hours practicing alone, but whenever Yuuri had the chance he’d come to watch and offer what advice he could. Between them they’d tweaked his skate until they were happy with it.

The theme was heartbreak and, as Yuuri watched, he felt his own heart split in two in his chest.

Victor reached the first jump and Yuuri held his breath. He’d learned pretty quickly that the success of Victor’s skate always hung on that first jump.

Victor landed cleanly and Yuuri applauded, copying what he’d seen the audience do for the other skaters.

The audience sat in surprised silence, with only a clap here and there, the sound of which couldn’t have carried to the ice.

Yuuri bit his lips in frustration. How could anyone go out in front of a crowd like _this_ and do well?

Victor landed his second jump and Yuuri, in defiance of everyone else, clapped and cheered at the top of his voice. He would make enough noise for the whole crowd if he had to.

Third, fourth jump – everything was clean. Now Yuuri was getting nervous again. He’d seen Victor’s last few practices and he knew the man could do it, but what if he didn’t? What if? And what would happen to him then?

Victor jumped the combination and went into the final spin.

And, just like that, the music ended. Victor had skated without making a single mistake.

 

Yakov watched with mounting astonishment as Victor landed one jump after another.

The routine ended and the audience met it with the same stunned silence as before.

“Victor! Amazing! That was amazing!” Victor’s coach cheered at the top of his voice, breaking the silence.

Victor turned to give him an embarrassed smile.

Yakov felt a smile tug at his own lips. Perhaps Victor had found the right coach for himself at last. What a promising start for the season!

Victor stepped out of the rink and leaned on his coach’s shoulder to put his skate guards on. When he finished, they joined hands and entered the kiss and cry together in a way that he’d seen pair skaters go to get their scores.

They kept throwing anxious glances at the scoreboard and then at each other and Yakov found himself waiting with them. Victor’s routine hadn’t included any quads and was a whole level easier than the routines of the top six figure skaters, but he’d skated it very cleanly.

“And the scores for Victor Nikiforov are – 90.5 points!” the announcer read out over the speakers.

It was the best score Victor had gotten in his entire figure skating career.

“That’s… that’s my new personal… I’ve never gotten over 90 points before!” Victor exclaimed.

Yakov joined his hands in applause, startling the two men sitting in the kiss and cry. As if it had been the signal they were all waiting for, the audience followed suit.

Victor stared around the rink in amazement.

_How long has it been since you’ve heard applause and congratulations, Vitya? Come back to the figure skating world properly this time!_

He stepped close enough for them to hear him and, knowing that there were cameras and microphones all around him, he said, “I look forward to seeing your performance this season.”

He turned and walked away. Perhaps, if not Victor himself, then these words at least would give his pupils that much-needed push in the right direction.

 

Yuuri stared after the old man as he walked away and waited for everyone’s attention to return to the skating rink before leaning close to whisper to Victor, “Maybe he can be the right coach for you.”

A strange expression appeared on Victor’s face at those words. It unsettled Yuuri.

“What’s wrong?”

“He used to be my coach,” Victor explained in a low voice, “before I disappointed him.”

Yuuri remembered about the cameras and the microphones and led Victor away before speaking again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Victor’s smile hurt Yuuri more than tears or a frown would’ve. “You don’t need to apologize. You weren’t to know.”

Yuuri pulled him close and held on to him. He wanted to always hold Victor like this and to never let him go. He wished he could take all the bad thoughts and awful memories away.

One memory was giving Yuuri some hope about the future: it took a lot of convincing to get Victor to lower the difficulty of his jumps. There was still some fight left in him.

 

The free skate came the following day. Victor had ended up in fourth place, meaning that, instead of the first, he was in the last group to go.

As soon as Victor and Yuuri arrived at the rink a journalist walked over to interview them.

“Hello, Victor,” she said with an easy smile. “I was very impressed with your skate yesterday. Where did you get your inspiration for it?”

Yuuri tensed the moment she began to speak, but gradually he let himself relax. It was just a regular interview.

Victor spoke in a relaxed manner, as if talking to a friend and not for a recording. He’d been inspired by a breakup, he said, but refused to say who he’d broken up with.

“And now you have a new coach!” the journalist exclaimed. “Nice to meet you, Yuuri!”

They shook hands. Yuuri caught himself thinking that she was too enthusiastic, but did his best to smile politely and act as though nothing was wrong.

“This is your first time coaching, right?” Yuuri nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“But you _do_ know that Victor has done better with you as his coach than with anyone else?” she asked.

It was just his luck that the question had occurred to Yuuri earlier and so he’d had time to think of a suitable answer. “Yes, I am aware,” he answered and watched her try to prompt him to say more.

“Do you think it’s because the other coaches neglected Victor?” she asked, pushing for the answer she wanted to hear.

“No comment.”

“What do you think, Victor?” she pounced on the skater. “Have you been neglected all these years and is that why you couldn’t skate to your full potential?”

Yuuri met Victor’s eye and tried to communicate with a look that the question was a trap. It wasn’t a very clever trap either. If Victor agreed with her, she would publish an article that would make it sound as though Victor blamed others for his failure. If Victor disagreed, then she was bound to

Victor smiled. “I’m flattered to hear that you think that I have potential.”

Her smile looked forced, but still it remained plastered over her face. “Do you think you have potential to do even more?”

“Every skater has potential,” was his answer.

She laughed at his words. “That’s a very sweet thing to say, but you don’t really believe it, do you?”

Victor met her with the most innocent expression imaginable. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean.”

Her gaze darted to Yuuri as she changed tactics. “Tell me, Mr. Katsuki, does being a lingerie model help you coach Victor in figure skating?”

Before Yuuri could answer, she pulled a magazine out of her bag and opened it to demonstrate an ad Yuuri had done recently.

Yuuri lay on white pillows in pure white underwear, a peignoir and lace stockings that went up to his thighs to match. There was a pair of white slippers on his feet with white pompoms.

“Don’t think you can hide this from me!” she exclaimed as if she’d uncovered a dark secret. “You can’t deny this, can you? _Victor’s Secret_! It’s really funny, isn’t it?”

“Sorry, may I?” Victor asked and took the magazine out of her hands. “This is a really good picture of you,” he told Yuuri as he studied it closely. “Can I keep this?” he asked the reporter.

She waved it away. “Did you know about this? What’s it like to have someone coach you who takes his clothes off for a living?”

“Yuuri isn’t a stripper,” Victor corrected her. “Although,” he tilted his head as his eye returned to the ad, “you’d make a very good one.”

“I have better photos than that one,” Yuuri declared, suddenly seeing an opening he could use. “I can show them to you, if you like.”

“Yes, please!” they walked off together, as if they’d forgotten all about her. By the time she came to her senses it was too late.

Victor flipped through the magazine and made a disappointed noise as he discovered that there were no more photos of Yuuri in it.

“Do you know what I would love to have?” Victor asked and then answered before Yuuri could say anything. “A magazine full of your photos. Something like… like _Cosmopolitan_ with you on the cover and…” Victor froze, unable to decide on anything else.

Yuuri laughed. “With splash text that says something like “tips on how to get him to beg for more”?”

“Exactly!” Victor exclaimed. He stood before Yuuri. For several minutes the world had only them in it.

Yuuri found himself wishing it had all been so simple. If only he could just go out with Victor as if it was nothing. He imagined sneaking photos of himself at work to send to Victor.

But, no, this was more precious – he had to be there for Victor. He had to do everything in his power to change the way Victor thought about himself.

It was so easy to raise his arms and fold them around Victor and hold him close. “That was terrible,” he whispered, “and all my fault. Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault at all! It was mine!” Victor protested.

Yuuri pressed his lips to Victor’s cheek. “It was _her_ fault. Let’s go.”

 

Victor was nervous this time. Yuuri could see it. Perhaps he worried that after a clean skate he would go out and make one mistake after another, but Yuuri had complete faith in him.

When it was Victor’s turn to go out on the ice, Yuuri pressed his forehead against Victor’s. “Forget about all of them,” he said, “skate as if it’s just the two of us in your rink.”

A few more seconds left. Quick! What else? Oh yes.

“Please don’t try any quads. I know you really want to, but please?”

Victor stepped back.

“Next on the ice –”

“Good luck!”

Yuuri watched Victor skate away and prayed that he’d listen to Yuuri’s advice. Victor hadn’t landed a single quad in practice, but he’d succeeded in all his triple jumps. At some point Yuuri had sat down and proven with a simple calculation that a clean skate with triple jumps was better for Victor. Maybe if Victor could consistently complete four rotations, it was best to avoid quads altogether.

 _He needs someone who knows how to do the elements,_ Yuuri thought miserably. _Maybe they can tell Victor what he’s doing wrong._

Victor had a lot of talent. Even Yuuri, with his limited experience in figure skating, could see that. Would anyone else improve so much just from more practice?

After the heartbreak in the short program, the theme of Victor’s free skate was the pure joy of love. Yuuri hadn’t dared to comment on it when he’d found out.

He watched Victor move fast with the beat, unable to take his eyes off the skater. He may be lacking technically, but artistically Victor was spot on. Was it Yuuri’s imagination, or were Victor’s movements lighter? There was a soft look in the man’s eyes as he executed the first triple jump.

It was impossible to look away. Victor’s routine drew the eye in. The audience picked up on the catchy beat and clapped along. Yuuri clapped too, without even noticing he was doing it.

Victor was nearing the end now, the moment when there was a strong temptation to jump a quad.

Yuuri clutched his hands together. _Please don’t do it._

One. Two. Three rotations and Victor landed with a smile just as the music ended.

This time the applause was much louder.

The smile faded and Victor looked around himself with a lost expression on his face, as though for a moment he couldn’t remember where he was.

“Victor!” Yuuri shouted and the audience picked up his cry. His name rolled through the stands.

He raised a hand and gave a shy wave.

The cheering got even louder.

Yuuri waited patiently for Victor to bow and skate for the kiss and cry.

“Did you hear that?” the skater asked. “That was – that was… Amazing!”

Yuuri pulled him into a hug and held him close. “Thank you.”

“For-for what?” Victor stammered out. “Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”

“Come.” He lowered himself and helped Victor put his skate guards on.

There was an embarrassed look on Victor’s face as they sat down in the kiss and cry.

“And the scores for Victor Nikiforov are…”

Yuuri felt his heart leap in his chest. He knew there were three more skaters waiting to go, but just the sight of a “1” next to Victor’s name excited him.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered as tears began to roll down his face. “Oh, Yuuri…”

He put his arms around his pupil.

Victor dropped his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder and wept into it. “I know it means nothing,” he whispered, “but…” And Yuuri knew that they’d shared the same thought.

He raised his arms and let his hands rest on Victor’s back. “I loved your skate.”

They pulled apart and stared into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you.”

It was almost impossible to watch anything after that. Instead, they sat in the change room and talked about the changes they wanted to make to both the short program and free skate.

“Congratulations!” someone exclaimed.

Yuuri turned to see who was getting congratulated and found to his great surprise that the speaker was standing in front of him and Victor. It was Victor’s old coach again.

“Yakov!” Victor exclaimed, jumping to his feet like a student caught breaking the rules.

“What are you congratulating Victor for?” Yuuri asked cautiously.

“You won second place,” Yakov explained simply.

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a look. “Second?” they both echoed.

Yuuri saw the surprise and bewilderment on Victor’s face and, as the man turned to face his coach once more, he could hear the words Victor would say before he even said them.

“There must be some mistake! I couldn’t… there’s no way that I… second place?” Victor stammered out.

“Did you hope for first?” the old coach asked and Yuuri realized with a pang of surprise that the man was teasing his former pupil. “You’ll have to jump a quad at the Final, if you want to win and more than one at that. Good day, gentlemen, and good luck.” He nodded at them both and walked away.

Yuuri stared after him in amazement. The man normally had a displeased look on his face and, after hearing Victor’s stories, Yuuri had expected him to lecture them. He hadn’t expected teasing and advice.

“What… what was that?” Victor asked him and Yuuri wondered how well the skater knew his old coach. “Was that a prank?”

Yuuri’s eye fell on one of the screens as it showed a table with all the scores. Sure enough, Victor’s name was second on the list. “It’s true,” he confirmed softly.

Victor turned, spotted the screen, stared at it and then at Yuuri. “It’s because everyone was taking it easy,” he said. “No one tries hard in the first few competitions of the season.”

Yuuri didn’t bother arguing. Victor could be among the best, maybe even at the very top. He saw it clearly now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one minds that I messed with the years a bit and that because of this the Sochi Olympics occur later than they do in the canon.


	8. Eros and Bunny Have Fun

It was supposed to be an easy season for Yuri Plisetsky. He would win gold in every competition, get selected for the Olympic team and become the youngest figure skater to win an Olympic gold medal. He was fifteen and better than everyone else. Everyone could see that.

So what was Yakov doing, implying that that old skater had any hope of winning anything? It was just a way to challenge him. It had to be. Who believed that _Victor Nikiforov_ of all people stood a single chance of ever winning anything? Except that, in defiance of all the odds, he’d walked away with a silver medal from Skate America.

Mila had gotten very excited by this. For some reason, she saw it as proof that Victor was making a comeback at last to win every gold medal and become the figure skating legend everyone had expected him to be years and years ago.

Yuri had just rolled his eyes at her. He wasn’t naïve or stupid. Victor had been in a competition that only included one of the top ten figure skaters – Georgi. In short, he’d gotten lucky, but his luck was about to run out.

Closer to the Final, he’d have to compete in the Rostelecom Cup where he’d go up against four of the top ten figure skaters. That was where it would end for him.

Yuri tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind. What did he care what happened to Victor? It wasn’t important. He had other skaters to think about.

 

Yuuri and Victor returned home exhausted from the long ride, but happy. They took the elevator with their suitcases as they talked about the changes they could make to Victor’s program.

The elevator dinged as they reached their floor and Yuuri stepped out first, making for the apartment that he was now calling both of theirs. Something about having a roommate like Victor always made returning home feel special.

“I… I put my key in my bag,” Victor admitted, patting his pockets as if hoping the key would magically appear in one of them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri pulled out his and unlocked the door.

The lock clicked and he swung the door open.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Victor pushed Yuuri against it, catching him in a kiss.

Yuuri felt his head spin. What was Victor thinking? Was this another of his “thank you”s? Was he about to drop to his knees and pull Yuuri’s pants down? He gripped Victor’s shoulders with his hands, forcing him to stay where he was.

He hadn’t thought much about their roommate arrangement – Victor had kept to the couch and Yuuri had been too exhausted in the evenings for this mind to consider all the implications of sharing an apartment with Victor.

Victor broke the kiss and Yuuri stared at him with a dazed expression on his face. Victor released Yuuri and stepped back. “Sorry,” he murmured, backing away. “Sorry, if I hurt you. It’s just… I wanted to say thank you and I didn’t know how else to do it.”

Yuuri resisted the urge to clutch his head and willed the world to stop spinning. “You don’t… Just saying thank you is enough. Really.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough,” Victor countered.

Right. Yuuri’s heart beat fast and he could feel his face burning. He couldn’t think clearly at the moment, but this was important and needed careful handling.

He forced a smile. “It’s enough for me, really.” It was hard to walk up to Victor and just hug him when there was so much confusion in his mind. “It’s what friends are for,” he whispered.

Victor gave him a surprised look and Yuuri gritted his teeth to swallow back the curses that rose to his lips.

_I hope I never run into any of your exes! I don’t know what I’ll do to them, if we ever meet._

“Come on. Let’s go buy something for dinner. I’m hungry.”

He had to put on a smile for Victor and go on as if nothing was wrong.

 _One day,_ he thought as they got ready to go out to the grocery store around the corner. _I’ll make you understand what real friendship and real love mean._

Outside the temperature plummeted as the sky darkened and Yuuri shivered in his coat as he walked at Victor’s side.

It was a relief to step inside the heated and brightly-lit store even if there was something gloomy about the place.

“What do you think about lasagna?” Victor asked.

“Sorry? What?” Yuuri asked in return.

“I feel like trying something new,” Victor went on, “and I think a lasagna should be easy enough to make. What do you think?”

Yuuri smiled. “Sounds great!”

Victor nodded. “I’ll go get the pasta, then. Do you mind getting the cheese? Meet you in the vegetable aisle?”

“Vegetable aisle it is,” Yuuri agreed.

They split up. Yuuri got the cheese and sauce while Victor searched for the pasta and bread. Yuuri found Victor’s favourite yoghurts and made for the rows of stacked vegetables and fruits.

He found Victor between a stack of bright red peppers and another of tomatoes of the same colour. There was a wistful smile on his face that made Yuuri stop in his tracks and stare.

Victor was very beautiful in that way that artworks were. It often made Yuuri wonder if he had been lovingly created by an artist who paid attention to all the little details. More than that, Yuuri had already noticed that Victor was incredibly photogenic. Even now, under the horrible lights of the store, the man was positively glowing.

He wasn’t smiling for anyone this time. He hadn’t noticed Yuuri and seemed to be lost in a world of his own. No, this was his smile for himself.

It occurred to Yuuri then that for the first time since they’d met he was seeing Victor happy. Truly happy.

The thought filled Yuuri with tenderness and made him catch Victor in a hug from behind.

“Yuuri! Are you alright?”

He tightened his hold on Victor for a moment. “Yes,” he whispered and released Victor, stepping back as soon as he let go.

“What’s wrong?”

Yuuri kept staring, unable to look away. Finally he managed an answer, “Nothing is wrong.”

“There’s something on my face, isn’t there?” Victor asked, making Yuuri laugh.

“No, no, there isn’t,” Yuuri assured him.

“I wish there was,” Victor whispered. “Something like a lipstick imprint would be great.” He coloured and threw a quick glance at Yuuri. “I mean –”

“A lipstick imprint can be arranged,” Yuuri assured him.

“Only if you want to,” Victor stammered out.

Yuuri gave him a sideways glance. “We can do it for fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yes,” Yuuri hooked his arm around Victor’s as he added the groceries he’d grabbed to the little cart Victor was pushing. “Don’t you ever do something just for fun?”

“Mmm… I don’t… not really,” Victor admitted. “Maybe sometimes.”

Yuuri leaned forward and whispered, “Pick your favourite colour for my lipstick and when we get home I’ll show you my collection of lingerie, so you can decide what I’ll wear while I kiss you.”

Victor turned deep red. “I… uh…” He swallowed and whispered, “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

He nodded at the peppers, coughed and picked one up. “This colour,” he whispered. “This one is my favourite.”

They’d been short on time before, but there was a little bit of breathing room now. At least for tonight.

“And then,” Yuuri whispered, “you can pick your favourite position.”

Victor just nodded.

 

It was a very tender evening. They stood side by side and cooked lasagna, cutting up the vegetables they’d bought and then taking turns adding them to each layer.

Victor raised a piece of red pepper and Yuuri caught it with his mouth, making Victor smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this: like he belonged.

Yuuri finished off the lasagna by sprinkling cheese on top and put it in the oven. “Almost there,” he said to Victor. ‘Let’s go pick something for me to wear while we wait.”

Victor followed him obediently into the bedroom and watched in awe as Yuuri went through his drawer. He had a very impressive collection of things made from lace and straps, making the choice almost impossible.

His expression must’ve given away his confusion, because Yuuri smiled and assured him, “We can do this again and I’ll wear something else next time.”

Victor let his finger trail over a dark red thong. “This one,” he decided. It was probably the safest option of them all.

Yuuri pulled his sweater off and Victor turned away as he realized that the boy was going to change now. “I’ll go… check on the lasagna,” he said, remembering about dinner and rushing out with a wave of gratitude for the excuse he found.

The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell, making Victor wonder if he’d arrived just in time or too late. He pushed the thought of Yuuri in deep red aside for the moment and tried to think only about dinner.

“Something smells… delicious,” Yuuri breathed into his ear and a hand trailed over his shoulder.

Victor turned and felt his knees tremble under him.

Yuuri hadn’t limited himself to what Victor had picked out for him. He’d thrown on a long peignoir from a see-through black material with fake fur trimming. He’d left his chest bare, but his feet were in a pair of black stiletto heels.

“Um… you look nice,” Victor stammered out and winced. “Very… very sexy, I mean.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Yuuri whispered. “Do you want to change as well?”

“Should I?”

“I found the perfect clothes for you,” Yuuri said. “I left them on the bed.” A mischievous smile appeared on his lips at those words.

Victor nodded. “I’ll go change right now.” He left the kitchen, his heart pounding fast in his chest as he tried to picture what he might find.

When he saw what Yuuri had picked out for him, he nodded in approval. Yes, of course.

He changed quickly, grateful that it all fit and rushed back to rejoin Yuuri.

Yuuri smiled in approval as soon as Victor stepped back into the kitchen.

Victor was in a white body harness that from further away made it look like he was wearing a thong with a vest. He had a white fluffy bunny tail and pair of ears to match.

He raised his hands in a comic imitation of paws and Yuuri walked over to him to stroke his back with a laugh. Then he circled Victor, giving him a critical up and down look. “My dear Bunny…” he said and stopped in front of Victor. “What do you desire more than anything?”

Yuuri’s question puzzled Victor. “I… I… Let’s eat first?” he suggested, unable to think of anything else.

“Oh, jumping in right away, are we?” Yuuri circled Victor again and dropped to his knees behind him. Victor nearly leapt when he felt Yuuri’s hands grip his buttocks. “A kiss for the right cheek… and the left…” Yuuri whispered, planting a kiss as he said the words.

Victor held his breath. He felt Yuuri give his tail a gentle flick and heard him giggle. He waited for Yuuri to let him go before he dared to move.

“Let’s eat,” Yuuri suggested and got a knife to cut the lasagna with.

It was unlike any dinner in Victor’s life. They sat at the small kitchen table with barely any clothes on and ate. Under the table Yuuri’s foot stroked Victor’s leg, letting his heel slide over Victor’s skin. Victor shuddered under the touch. The lasagna was delicious, but he was barely aware of it, as if it was nothing more than background detail.

After they finished eating Yuuri rose and walked over to the sink to wash the dishes.

“You don’t have to –” Victor protested.

Still Yuuri kept going. Victor stepped in behind him, but, instead, found himself putting his arms around Yuuri. Yuuri stepped back into his touch and continued to wash the dishes.

Victor lowered his head and kissed Yuuri’s shoulder. “Let me…” he whispered and kissed Yuuri’s neck.

“I’m almost done.”

Victor’s hands slid over Yuuri’s stomach.

Yuuri put the last dish away and turned to face Victor. “What do you want to do first, Bunny?” he asked in a low voice.

Victor opened his mouth, but no sound came.

“Ah! I completely forgot, sorry!” Yuuri apologized and leaned forward to press a kiss to Victor’s cheek. He pulled away a little, his lips a few tantalizing centimetres from Victor’s skin. “Now what?” he breathed out.

Again Victor found himself trying to anticipate Yuuri’s wishes. He felt Yuuri’s hands slide up his back and heard him whisper, “What do you want more than anything right now, Bunny?”

In a flash he knew just what it was. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri and picked him up. Yuuri exclaimed in surprise as Victor carried him to the bedroom where he lay the man down with great care on the bed.

Not daring to stop and think, Victor climbed on after him.

 

Yuuri waited to see what Victor would do next, spreading his legs apart in anticipation.

But Victor pulled him close again, trapping his own head between Yuuri’s thighs. All Yuuri could see were the white bunny ears on Victor’s head. He suppressed a laugh and let out a long sigh instead.

Victor shuddered. His fingers trailed some way over Yuuri’s skin. He raised his head and met Yuuri’s eye. “Sorry, I… I should probably take your clothes off and…”

Yuuri gave a slight shake of his head. “No,” he breathed out, “we are going to have fun,” he reminded Victor, “and everyone knows that anticipation is more fun. Besides, it’s your turn to pick what we do.”

Victor turned his head and kissed Yuuri’s thigh. He moved a little and planted another kiss, then another and so on until he reached Yuuri’s knee where he switched to Yuuri’s other leg. He moved in this time, but stopped before he got too close.

Carefully, he raised one of Yuuri’s legs, slipped his shoulder under it and rewarded Yuuri’s thigh with a kiss. He repeated the same with Yuuri’s other leg.

Yuuri crossed his legs around Victor’s neck and watched the man blush as Yuuri’s heels slid over his back. _Now what?_ Yuuri wondered.

“Can you put your hands in my hair, please?” Victor asked.

Yuuri reached down and pulled his fingers through Victor’s hair.

Victor gave a soft gasp.

Yuuri gathered all his self-control and willed himself to stay calm.

“I… uh… Victor stammered out, “it’s late. You need to sleep. You have work…”

“Stay with me,” Yuuri asked, uncrossing his legs. “It’s not comfortable on the sofa. Just stay here.”

“The sofa is comfortable, really!” Victor protested. He raised his head, realized that he was still tangled in Yuuri’s legs and slipped out from under them. As soon as he broke free he sat up with a sad smile. “Thank you, Yuuri. That was very kind of you.”

Yuuri suppressed a curse and leapt up to catch him by the shoulders. “Please stay?”

“If you really want to…”

For a moment Yuuri struggled with his feelings. Maybe he’d been reading Victor wrong and the man had no wish to stay with him after all. “You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” he assured Victor. “I just thought…”

“No, no,” Victor argued. “I can’t inconvenience you like this.”

 _He doesn’t want to stay,_ Yuuri decided and released him. “You need your rest too, if you’re going to practice tomorrow.”

Victor nodded. Was it Yuuri’s imagination, or was there an expression of relief on his face? Maybe after all his relationships Victor secretly preferred to not be in one anymore, especially when Yuuri had shown him what friendship was like.

 _I have to show that I believe in what I say,_ Yuuri told himself. _I can’t expect people to act a certain way and then not act that way myself._

He took both of Victor’s hands and peered into Victor’s face. “Good night,” he whispered.

He’d made a mistake with what he thought Victor would find fun. He should’ve thought of something else. What was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he thought of something else? Why didn’t he realize…

The thoughts went round and round in his head as he watched Victor walk out of the room.

Several minutes later Victor returned with the tail and ears as well as the promise to wash the body harness before returning it.

Yuuri couldn’t find the strength to argue, so he merely nodded.

It really was late and he really was very tired.

 

Morning peeked in through the windows and the alarm went off, waking Yuuri up. He turned over with a muttered curse and hit the snooze button. Just five more minutes.

Usually he drifted off right away after turning the alarm off, but that morning he was suddenly very aware of being alone in his bed. He thought about Victor sleeping on the couch and then about the conversation they’d had last night.

Yuuri sat up and put his hands over his face. How could he have been so stupid? He was Victor’s friend and coach. He had to think of Victor’s well-being at all times.

He’d been the one to offer his friendship, but he’d been nothing more than a terrible friend. Was there any way he could –

The alarm went off again.

This time he turned it off and got up.

When he entered the living room he found that Victor was still asleep. Yuuri made for the kitchen and stopped in the doorway to turn around and admire Victor’s sleeping form. A smile spread over Yuuri’s face.

After so many mornings of making breakfast with Victor it felt lonely to cook something alone, but the thought of Victor eating it and not having to work to have something to eat warmed Yuuri’s heart.

Once breakfast was ready, Yuuri went to check up on Victor.

The skater slept on as though he didn’t have a single care in the world.

Yuuri put a hand on the doorframe as the smile returned to his face. He turned away and sat down at the table to eat breakfast alone.

He finished getting ready for work as quietly as he could and left the apartment, taking care with the door on his way out.

 

It was light in the room when Victor awoke. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Was it really true? Had he really won second place in a competition, or had it all been nothing more than a dream? It took less than ten minutes for him to become convinced that it had all been just a dream.

So what had really happened? The answer seemed simple enough: the competition hadn’t happened yet.

Everything thus sorted out to his satisfaction, he got up and made for the kitchen, wondering what breakfast Yuuri would like best.

There was half an omelette with cheese and peppers on the stove, two bread slices waiting to be toasted in the toaster and a note from Yuuri on the table.

_Sorry to have missed you._

_Good luck in practice!_

_See you in the evening,_

_Yuuri_

Yuuri had made _him_ breakfast! A wave of guilt and embarrassment hit him when he saw it. It had been a long time since someone had done anything like this for him.

He imagined Yuuri waking up and making breakfast all by himself. Victor should’ve been there! Why hadn’t Yuuri woken him up?

He remembered his exes. None of them would’ve had any qualms about getting up, making a loud racket, demanding that Victor make breakfast for them. In the few cases when they didn’t demand he make them breakfast, they’d only make enough food for one and then they’d eat it. He remembered mornings spent running to a grocery store, in search for something to eat.

He looked at Yuuri’s note again and spotted the little heart Yuuri had drawn after his own name. Victor let his finger slide over that heart and smiled fondly at it.

He would try his hardest at practice, Victor promised himself.

An hour later when he opened his bag in the change room to get his skates, he found a silver medal waiting for him inside. He pulled it out and stared at it in disbelief. It had all been true! He hadn’t imagined winning second place!

Tears poured down Victor’s cheeks and he clutched the medal to his heart.

Even if this was his only medal that season and he never won anything ever again, he still owed Yuuri more than he could conceivably repay.

_How do I say thank you for this? What can I do when you decline everything I offer you?_

An old long-forgotten feeling rose in his chest. It had been asleep for many years, but the sight of the medal and the realization that it had all been true stirred it from its sleep.

 _Win every competition,_ it whispered. _Do it for Yuuri, if you won’t do it for yourself. Remember what Yakov said._

Yakov had said words to him once and they had stuck with him ever since. It had been at the Junior World Championships more than 10 years ago, but he could still recall all the details with perfect clarity.

_He was sitting in the kiss and cry, staring at his score on the screen, his mouth open in amazement. Around him the crowd’s cheering was almost deafening. He could smell the sharp sent of the cleaning fluid they’d used on the floor and bench._

_“Vitya, there is no greater compliment for a coach than to see their pupil win the gold medal,” Yakov declared, putting an arm around his pupil._

 

He remembered feeling like someone who was drunk on power. He’d been so sure of himself then, convinced that he could beat everyone and win every competition.

How low he had fallen since then! Victor dropped his head.

He had to keep fighting. If what Yakov had said was true, then he owed it to Yuuri to fight for the gold medal in every competition and right now it meant only one thing: he had to master quads.


	9. Eros in Russia

As the date of the Rostelecom Cup drew closer, the excitement among the fans intensified.

Yuri, who many considered a favourite for all the competitions that season, lost to Jean-Jacques Leroy of Canada at Skate Canada. They were set to face off against each other again at the Rostelecom Cup. Two other top skaters were meant to appear there as well. That made for four figure skaters who could successfully land at least one quad in a competition.

A few people cheered for Victor, simply because he was the least popular choice, but even they said that fourth place at the Rostelecom Cup would be akin to a miracle for Victor Nikiforov.

No, the fans decided, if anyone would win gold at the Rostelecom Cup it would be JJ or Yuri and then both men would get another rematch at the Final where one of them was expected to win gold once more.

Both Victor and Yuuri had no knowledge of these speculations. Victor was concentrating all his energy on skating and didn’t have any to spare for reading rumours.

Neither of them had expected to get a big reception at the airport and, so, they weren’t surprised when they didn’t get one. They greeted indifference like an old friend, almost as if they were pleased by it.

Quietly, without any fuss, they made their way to the hotel where Yuuri stepped forward to be the one to talk to reception.

“Hello,” he began, “we’d like to check in please –”

A loud burst of screaming made him turn around and he watched a boy who looked no older than 15 walk in, followed by a large screaming crowd. Everyone in the crowd was wearing a pair of cat ears on their heads. Several of them held big signs that read “Yuri’s Angels”.

Yuuri wondered who the local celebrity was before turning around to talk to the receptionist again.

“Here for the Rostelecom Cup, sir?” she asked in the tired voice of someone having to deal with this every day.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Good luck in the competition,” she said and a smile that didn’t look sincere appeared on her face. “I hear that it’s going to be a tough one. I’ll need the passports and names of everyone staying.”

“I’m not the one who’s competing,” he corrected her. “My name is Yuuri Katsuki. I have a reservation for two with Victor Nikiforov.” He handed her his passports and wondered for a moment if she would recognize Victor.

She raised her eyes from the screen before her and cast a vague look around, as if searching for Victor.

Yuuri followed her gaze without thinking and realized that he couldn’t see Victor anywhere. “He must be somewhere in the crowd,” Yuuri explained, feeling panic rise in his chest.

“Yes, of course,” the receptionist agreed and took the passports. She went through the check-in procedure and returned with the passports and a key card. “Room 312,” she told him. “Breakfast is on the second floor from 6 to 9. Have a good stay.”

He accepted everything she handed him and walked away, wondering if it was best to wait here, or somewhere else. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

 _I’m by the elevators,_ Victor text him.

Yuuri pushed through the crowd, fighting to get to the elevators and trying not to curse at the fans around him.

He spotted Victor leaning against a pillar by the elevators, watching something on his phone. “Victor!”

Victor raised his head and put his phone away. “Sorry,” he said, walking over to Yuuri, “I thought I’d go on ahead. It was getting really crowded in there.”

“It was nothing, really,” Yuuri assured him and tried to read Victor’s expression, but all he could see was the polite smile that Victor often wore when he wanted to hide what he was really feeling.

Maybe it really was nothing.

They went up to the third floor and Yuuri swiped the key card to open the door for them. As soon as he stepped inside, his heart fell.

A large queen-sized bed stood in the middle of the room. He’d forgotten to ask for two small beds!

“Um…” he stammered out, turning to face Victor and trying to come up with something to say.

“It’s alright,” Victor said and, just as Yuuri prepared to hear him say that he would sleep on the floor, Victor said, “It’s big enough for us both to fit.”

Right. Yes. That was what Yuuri had been about to say. It definitely was.

“It is,” Yuuri agreed. “Do you want the window side?”

The room wasn’t much bigger than the bed, so sleeping on the floor meant that if you moved at all in your sleep, you’d end up hitting either one of the bed’s legs or the walls.

Yuuri got the window side and he walked over to the window to open the curtains and see what the view was.

This was his first time abroad and he was very excited to see Moscow. He didn’t expect to see the Red Square or to have a glimpse of the Kremlin from their window, but when he saw the view they did have he felt an enormous wave of disappointment. The window opened up onto a back courtyard with large garbage containers and nothing else. The wall of the building opposite blocked all hopes of any kind of view. It was an ugly grew colour and here and there he could see the white paint of the window frames peeling off.

“Sorry, I’d hoped that we’d get a nice view from the window this time,” Victor apologized.

Yuuri turned to see him sitting on the other side of the bed with a sad smile on his face.

“Do you want to switch sides?” Victor offered.

“No,” Yuuri shook his head and closed the curtain. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You must be tired from that long flight,” Victor went on. “Let’s rest a bit and then go out and explore the city.”

Yuuri gave the pillow a longing look. Something told him that if he lay down for a nap now he’d be out until the following morning. “No,” he said slowly, “let’s go out for a bit. I’m still stiff from sitting for so long.”

Victor didn’t argue.

They took a cold shower each, changed their clothes and went out exploring.

Moscow was unlike any city Yuuri had ever seen. It was grand. It blinded and dazzled. He’d been to New York once, but Moscow was nothing like it.

The language gave him a hard time, of course, and he had to rely on Victor for communicated with the people they encountered in shops and out on the streets.

But then they stepped out onto the Red Square and the towers of the Kremlin rose before his astonished eyes. A ruby red star atop one of the towers glowed and then the clock just below it began to strike the hour.

Yuuri stood silently and listened to every strike.

It wasn’t a sunny day, but something about the autumn added an extra charm to the city.

Victor took his hand. “There’s a really good restaurant not too far from here.”

Yuuri barely understood a word of what he’d said: all he could think about was that Victor was holding his hand in that moment. He nodded, unsure of what he was agreeing to, and followed Victor through the network of streets to a little restaurant tucked away from everyone’s eye.

The food was different from anything Yuuri had ever eaten, from the beet soup to the marinated fish.

“This food always reminds me of my parents’ house,” Victor confessed as he downed spoonful after spoonful of the soup.

For a while Yuuri was silent. “Don’t you want to go visit them?” he asked in a low voice. “We’re not that far from them.”

Now that they were on the other side of the ocean and on the right continent, everything in the same country felt close by comparison.

“Still several hours away by train,” Victor countered. “I don’t have the money for a ticket.”

Yuuri studied his face. “Will they come here, then?”

Victor shook his head. “I doubt it. They used to come to all my competitions, but I asked them to stop when I… when it became obvious that I wouldn’t win anymore medals.” He fiddled with his fork, turning it over as if fascinated by its shape. “I don’t want to cause them more embarrassment.

 _But you’re much better now,_ Yuuri wanted to say. He saw the way Victor hunched his shoulders and dropped the subject.

After a big dinner came dessert in the shape of crêpes folded over nicely and filled with jam. A waitress put a teapot filled with hot tea on the table between them to wash it all down. Yuuri started to worry that he would burst from all the food.

He sat back in his chair with a tired sigh. “I don’t know if I can make it back after a meal like this. Maybe you can –” He threw a quick glance at Victor, catching himself just in time. “Maybe I’ll just crawl back.” He laughed to show he was kidding and Victor joined in.

But what astonished Yuuri the most was when the waitress brought the bill and he did the conversion in his head to American dollars and realized how little all that had cost them.

Victor paid, protesting as soon as he noticed Yuuri reaching for his wallet.

 

They walked side by side. A beautiful night descended on the city and, for a moment, Yuuri forgot about everything else and reached out to take Victor’s hand.

Victor squeezed Yuuri’s fingers in return and a wave of tender feelings passed through Yuuri. They held on all the way to their room. Only once they reached their door did Victor let go and give Yuuri and apologetic look. “I know my skating isn’t good enough to dedicate to you, but I’d like to dedicate it to you anyway.”

Yuuri waited patiently for more, but Victor pulled out his key card and unlocked the door for them.

 

Practice was scheduled for the following morning and it was also when Yuuri got his first glimpse of the competition.

A tall, dark-haired skater went out on the ice, radiating confidence and crossed the rink with incredible speed. He jumped and Yuuri counted four rotations before the man landed again.

Someone made a loud disapproving noise and Yuuri watched the boy who’d showed up with a crowd of fans step out onto the ice. Thankfully, this time he didn’t have his fans with him. He also jumped a quad as if it was nothing and Yuuri felt his heart tighten in his chest. This was who Victor would go up against.

On the other side of the rink two skaters moved quickly around each other and something about their skating suggested that they, too, could jump quads.

Another two skaters exited on the ice and the top group was complete.

Victor didn’t get to practice with them. He had to wait for his turn along with the rest of the second group.

Skate America had filled Yuuri with hope, but now the practice for the Rostelecom Cup was plunging Yuuri into despair. They were all on a different level. For all of them jumping a quad was like taking a nap.

Victor stood beside him and watched wordlessly. Yuuri didn’t dare look at him, afraid of what expression he might see on his face.

At Skate America Yuuri had seen the way other skaters greeted each other. Skaters from the same country were greeted like teammates. Skaters from other countries were greeted like friends. Here in Russia, no one paid the slightest bit of attention to Victor, as if he was an embarrassing cousin no one dared to acknowledge.

Yuuri did his best to keep his frustration in check as he watched the others skate. Was he biased because of his connection with Victor, or was there something not quite right about their skating? There was something lacking, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was.

The first group finished and left one by one. They didn’t stop to watch. They didn’t even stop to chat.

Victor stepped out onto the ice and made a few strides to stand in front of Yuuri. He looked into Yuuri’s face. Yuuri reached out and took Victor’s hands, holding them down to the top of the boards as they stood together.

“Everything will be alright,” he said soothingly.

“Will it?” Victor whispered.

His face was sadder than ever, as if he’d learned about something terrible. Was it something new? Yuuri didn’t dare ask.

He reached up and put his hand on Victor’s cheek. “Go practice,” he whispered.

He was forgetting himself. He was getting too close to Victor again. The man didn’t need a boyfriend right now, Yuuri told himself, and took his hand away.

Victor skated away, leaving Yuuri behind to watch helplessly from the sidelines. He went through his routine, not even attempting a single quad and Yuuri felt his heart sink lower in his chest. Where was Victor’s will to fight? Had the sight of the competition frightened him so much that he didn’t even want to try anymore?

It seemed like such an amazing dream to make it into the Final. Yuuri had hoped that Victor would at least make it to sixth, but now he wasn’t so sure.

By the time Victor finished skating, Yuuri remembered himself and got his feelings under control so that when Victor skated up to Yuuri there was a smile on his face again.

“What did you think?”

“I think you need to go over the step sequence again,” Yuuri said. “I think it needs to be a little faster towards the end to better follow the music.”

“You’re right,” Victor agreed. “Thanks, coach,” and he skated out to go through it all again.

Around him other skaters went in circles on the ice, but neither Yuuri nor Victor paid them the slightest bit of attention.

Yuuri followed Victor’s movements closely, feeling as if he was out there on the ice with him. How many hours had the man spent practicing alone? How many laps had Victor run on his own? How many times had he fallen on the ice with no one there to ask him if he was ok?

Yuuri joined his hands and kept watching.

 

Four hours later they were in a different skating rink, waiting for Victor’s turn to go out on the ice. It wasn’t a long wait either – once more he was in the first group to go out.

The first group’s warm up wasn’t greeted with a lot of enthusiasm, but it was nothing in comparison with the hostile silence that met Victor when it was his turn to go.

“Forget about them,” Yuuri whispered into his ear as he held Victor enveloped in his arms, “skate for me. Please?”

“I will always skate just for you,” Victor whispered and skated away.

Yuuri felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

Still the audience remained silent. Yuuri’s embarrassment gave way to anger. How could they? Victor was representing their country! What happened to having at least a bit of patriotism?

The music began to play and Yuuri gripped his hands tighter. He followed every step, taking note of every movement. He’d gotten so used to analyzing every single one of Victor’s steps out on the ice that even now he was trying to think of how the skate could be improved.

Was Victor showing heartbreak better than before, or was it the audience’s continued hostility that was making Yuuri feel as though his heart was bursting in two?

Victor neared the end, that moment when they’d planned for him to jump a quad and Yuuri clutched his hands so hard he could feel his fingernails digging into his skin.

Victor jumped and for a moment Yuuri held his breath. Seconds stretched out to eternity before Victor landed again and continued.

He did it! Four rotations and perfect landing!

Yuuri joined his hands and applauded as loudly as he could. A few people in the audience joined him, but it was a poor response, as if they were angry with Victor for jumping a quad as if their cold response was supposed to mean that even this changed nothing.

No, he told himself, that was just his imagination. They were merely surprised. That was all it was.

But when the skate ended Victor received very little applause for all his efforts and for the first time Yuuri wondered how it was possible to keep going when faced with such hostility at every competition.

Finally, remembering himself, Yuuri ran to the exit from the ice to wait for Victor with his arms wide open.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed, skating up to him. “Did you see that? I did it! I can’t believe I did it!”

“That was amazing, Victor! I loved every second of it!”

“You’re crying, Yuuri,” Victor said as soon as they got close. “Are you alright?”

“Your skate really struck my heart,” Yuuri told him, wondering how much of it had been due to the skate and how much – due to something else.

Victor gave him an embarrassed grin. “Was it that bad?”

“Come here.” Yuuri pulled Victor close and enveloped him in his arms. “That was amazing!” he repeated in a whisper as the tears continued to come.

They made for the kiss and cry. Victor kept throwing glances at Yuuri, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d said and was expecting his coach to take his words back any minute.

They posted Victor’s scores and Yuuri threw his arms around his pupil’s neck once more.

“Pinch me,” Victor whispered.

“What?”

“I didn’t just get over 100 points, did I? I must be dreaming! Or it’s some kind of mistake?” Victor protested.

Yuuri pulled away and looked into his pupil’s face. “You earned those 100.5 points,” he said. “Please believe me about this.”

After that they went somewhere to watch everyone else skate and hope for the best.

To Yuuri’s surprise, half of the skaters who had moved with such confidence during practice stumbled and made mistakes. By the time it was Yuri Plisetsky’s turn to go out on the ice Victor was still in first place.

 _No one is perfect,_ Yuuri thought. _Everyone makes mistakes._ He turned his head to see how Victor was taking this and saw the expression of surprise on his face.

Yuuri let his hand slide over Victor’s knee and took his hand with both of his own. Victor’s eyes remained fixed on the ice.

_Can you feel how strong my faith in you is? Do you ever think about me, or about what I’m willing to do for you?_

They had to take a short break to clean the ice and Yuuri saw his chance. “I need to go use the washroom,” he whispered. “Will you come with me?”

Victor got up and they left together.

By a great stroke of luck, when they go there they found that the washroom was empty. Yuuri looked Victor in the eye as he spoke even though he could feel a faint trembling in his hands.

“Do you see, Victor?  Everyone makes mistakes. There’s nothing wrong with that, so please…” his voice faltered for a moment, “ _please_ forgive yourself for the mistakes you made in the past.”

“You’re too kind to me,” Victor said, lowering his head. “I don’t deserve all this faith, or to have you as my coach.”

Yuuri felt anger flare inside him. “You always say that, but why? Why are you allowed to decide who is worthy of who? Why can’t I decide for myself?”

Victor stared at him in astonishment and Yuuri realized that there were tears rolling down his own cheeks. Why was he crying now of all times?

“Worthy, not worthy – what does that even mean?” Yuuri snapped. “A person’s worth isn’t measured by the number of medals they won, or if they made it into a history book!”

“Yuuri…” Victor raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. For some reason, it only made him angrier.

“You keep telling me that you’re not worthy, as if you want me gone! If you don’t want me around anymore, just say so!”

He ran out of the washroom, his face all red. He passed two turnings and stopped at an empty corner and put his hands over his face.

Stupid Yuuri! Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? Why did he lash out at Victor like that? It wasn’t his fault he had no confidence. Yuuri was Victor’s coach. It was his job to make Victor feel more confident and clearly he was failing to do this.

Yuuri leaned against a wall and slid down to the grown, raising his knees to his face and wrapping his arms around them.

He was no coach. Everything Victor had achieved wasn’t because Yuuri had helped him in some way. He’d done it all himself through his own strength of will.

“Yuuri!” Victor called.

He felt his heart leap at the sound of his voice. He raised his head from his knees and watched Victor come down the hall towards him.

Victor dropped to his knees in front of Yuuri. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I promise I won’t say it again.  If you want to stay, I’ll… I’ll be very happy, if you decide to stay.”

Yuuri stared into Victor’s face. He knew he couldn’t leave. Anywhere Victor went Yuuri would follow, even if he decided to move to a completely different country, even if it meant Yuuri had to leave everything behind. Yuuri reached out and put his arms around Victor, drawing him close.

“Promise me you’ll learn to think of yourself: do what you want to do and say no when others tell you to do something you don’t want to. Don’t spend all your time trying to figure out what others want. Try to do your best for yourself too.”

“Yuuri…”

He pulled away and looked into Victor’s face. “I want you to live your life as if you are the most important person. Will you try to do that for me?”

Victor’s head dropped onto Yuuri’s shoulder and Victor trembled. Now he was the one who was crying.

Yuuri thought of his own tears and of what he wanted and tightened his hold on Victor.

After what felt like forever he remembered where they were. “Do you think the competition is over?” Yuuri whispered.

“I don’t know,” Victor whispered back.

They pulled apart and stared at each other.

“Your eyes are red because of me,” Victor said.

“And yours because of me,” Yuuri countered. He gave a sad laugh. “They’ll think we had a fight and broke up, if we show up looking like this.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“No, I never was.” He saw the look on Victor’s face. “I was angry at myself. Sorry for yelling at you.”

“I deserved it,” Victor said, dropping his head.

“You’re doing it again,” Yuuri gave him a light prod with his finger.

“Sorry.”

Yuuri caught Victor in another hug. “Let’s go,” he whispered. “We need to find out the results.”

“Yeah…”

On the way back, Yuuri kept throwing glances at Victor, trying to read the expression on his face.

The knowledge that he’d stay by his side no matter what surprised Yuuri. He’d never felt that way about anyone before. But what was bothering him the most was the question of whether or not Victor felt the same way about him.

They joined the rest of the skaters watching the competition on the screens just as Jean-Jacques finished skating. They watched him go to the kiss and cry with a big grin on his face.

The skaters around them muttered to each other, making predictions about his score.

“No, no, I’m pretty sure he’ll get just more than Yuri,” someone protested. “Not by a bit, but he’ll have a two point lead, you’ll see.”

“I think he’ll be two points behind Yuri,” someone else argued.

Victor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri and both men held each other tight.

“If I were one of the judges…” someone began.

“Oh yeah? And who do _you_ want to win?” someone else asked.

The argument over the scores was starting to get really heated. Yuuri and Victor watched the screen without uttering a word. It was as if they were elsewhere and they no longer mattered.

Finally the scores were posted, putting an end to all the arguing. The screen changed to show the table with the current rankings. Jean-Jacques was in first place, Yuri – in second and Victor in third.

“Well…” one of the skaters near them said, “looks like it’s going to be another one of those years when we all compete for third place.”

Yuuri turned his face and met Victor’s stare. “I’m very proud of you,” he whispered and reached up to plant a kiss on Victor’s forehead.

Tears rolled down Victor’s face and he put a hand over his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered, “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Yuuri tried to soothe him.

And then the press arrived and for the first time that day the universe seemed to remember about them.

Yuuri blinked at the crowd surrounding them in amazement.

“Hello, Mr. Katsuki,” one of them jumped in. “Today was a surprising day for all skating fans. We saw Victor Nikiforov land a quad in a competition for the first time in his career and now he’s in third place. It looks like his chances of making it into the Final are very good this year. Can you tell us how you accomplished this? What is your secret?”

“Or _Victor’s Secret_?” someone suggested and laughter rippled through the crowd.

Yuuri felt his cheeks burn. He saw the reporters watch him like a hunter watches his prey. He was all too conscious that there were skaters in the room with them and just as Yuuri turned his head to give them all an absent look, the top two figure skaters entered the room.

He remembered how no one had taken the slightest bit of interest in Victor all this time. He remembered the cold reception the audience gave Victor and anger rose in his chest once more.

“I don’t know anything about the previous coaches,” he began hotly. “I’ve never seen how they coached Victor, so I can’t possibly comment, but I’ve seen how hard Victor worked for this skate. He has real talent and I believe that he will keep surprising us!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted saying them. _What am I doing? How can I put Victor in the spotlight like that?_

The reporters had mocking smiles on their faces and Yuuri realized with a sinking feeling that they were already forming plans for how they will twist Yuuri’s words to their advantage.

Victor chose this moment to speak up, “Since you’re all so eager to know the secret of my success, I’ll tell you.” He put an arm around Yuuri and Yuuri held his breath, terrified of the words that would follow. “Yuuri – as you all know – is a model for _Victor’s Secret_.” He spoke in a confident tone that Yuuri had never heard from him before and for a moment Yuuri became convinced that everything would turn out alright. “When I need motivation during practice, Yuuri comes out onto the ice in lingerie.”

There was a long stunned silence after those words.

Victor winked – _actually_ winked – and added, “It’s the most inspirational sight there is.”

The reporters erupted into a barrage of questions, shouting over each other, trying to make themselves heard.

“Excuse me,” Victor said and walked away, leading Yuuri gently by the arm.

 _I want you,_ Yuuri suddenly thought, staring at Victor’s face. _I want you to take me and then…_ His face turned bright red as he realized what thought had just crossed his mind and he lowered his eyes. His heart was beating fast in his chest and he did his best to not think about anything.

It was hard to get through the rest of the day without returning to that thought, but then night came and Yuuri found himself sharing a bed with Victor. The night before he’d been too tired to think about it, but now as he lay on the bed he found it impossible to think about anything else.

“Are you awake, Yuuri?” Victor whispered.

Yuuri turned to face him and did his best to smile. “Yeah…”

“I think I got a little carried away in front of the press,” Victor confessed. “Sorry about that.”

“No, I thought it was very funny, actually.” He hoped like mad that in the semi-darkness of the room Victor couldn’t see the blush on his cheeks.

“Your ads _are_ very inspirational,” Victor pointed out and Yuuri responded with a laugh.

After a while, they both went silent and stared at each other. Yuuri bit his lip as the same thought went round and round in his head.

“I can’t sleep,” Victor whispered.

“Same.” He wanted to say more, of course he did, but he was too embarrassed to say it all.

Victor must’ve realized that something was wrong because he whispered, “What’s the matter?” and shifted closer. Now Yuuri could see the concern etched into every line of the man’s face.

“I…” Yuuri licked his dry lips and berated himself for being so stupid. “I was thinking… Can I put my arms around you, please?”

“Yeah, of course,” Victor moved closer. “Do you want me to turn over?”

Now Yuuri felt as if his ears were on fire. “If… if you… no, that’s fine.”

He tried to tell himself that they’d done this before, that there was nothing new about it, but that didn’t help and when he buried his face in Victor’s chest he became all too aware of the sound of the man’s heartbeat.

He closed his eyes and tried to match his own breathing to the rhythm of Victor’s.

 

When Victor awoke he found the space beside him was empty. The sound of rushing water told him where Yuuri was.

He turned over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. It had felt good to sleep next to Yuuri. The weeks he’d spent sleeping on Yuuri’s couch had made him forget just how good it was to sleep at someone’s side, feeling their arms around him and the reassuring warmth of their body.

He lay still, waiting for Yuuri to come out of the bathroom. As soon as the door opened he turned his head, grateful that he didn’t have to get up to see him.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning,” Yuuri said with a smile. He was still in his pajamas, the shirt of which was a little too big for him and dropped all the way down to his knees.

Yuuri sat down on the bed. “I didn’t bother you at night, did I?”

“No, you’re a very quiet sleeper,” Victor assured him.

There was a light in Yuuri’s eyes and a blush on his cheeks. It was easy to see why he worked as a model – in his whole life Victor had never met anyone who looked more perfect than Yuuri.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked. “You’ve gone silent.”

“Just admiring my muse,” Victor told him.

Yuuri coloured and laughed. “I was really flattered by what you said to the press. No one ever told me that they found me inspirational before.”

Victor folded one arm under his head. “I don’t believe that! I bet lots of people have your posters up on their bedroom walls for inspiration.”

A lopsided smile twisted Yuuri’s lips.

Victor sat up. “Do you have copies of all the ads you’ve done?”

“Some,” Yuuri admitted. “Not all, though.”

This information made Victor frown and then he got another idea. “Can I come visit you at work sometime?” he asked.

Yuuri’s smile widened. His face was full of joy now. “I would love that!” Then the joy faded from his face. “I might need to get permission though,” he added to himself.

“If it’s not too much trouble?” Why hadn’t it occurred to him before? How incredible would it be to see where the models posed in front of the cameras and where Yuuri changed to go in front of the cameras.

Yuuri looked away. “Sometimes I fantasize about a boyfriend visiting and for someone to barge in on us as we…” He put a hand over his mouth and turned deep red.

To Victor’s astonishment Yuuri’s whole body turned red. There was something endearing about it.

Yuuri laughed, “It’s a silly thing to fantasize about, isn’t it?”

For some reason Victor could imagine it all really well…

 

_An ornate wooden dresser with a tall vanity mirror stood at one end of the room. The top drawer wasn’t closed all the way, allowing the viewer a glimpse of the collection of straps and lace inside. A jewelry box stood on the dresser, also open, its contents spilling out onto the dresser. A red thong hung from the top of the vanity mirror and black one lay on the floor beside it._

_The mirror itself reflected Yuuri standing against a wall with his boyfriend on his knees before him. Yuuri was breathing loudly._

_The imaginary observer stood in the doorway, too stunned to say a word…_

 

“Not at all!” Victor protested.

A beautiful smile full of gratitude appeared on Yuuri’s face and he returned to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Victor raised a hand to his head, doing his best to control his thoughts before they could run away again.

The bathroom door opened and Yuuri walked out in a body suit made from black lace. Unlike the night when they’d had sex for the first time, this time Victor could see very clearly that Yuuri wasn’t wearing anything under it. He posed in the doorway to the bathroom.

Victor felt his mouth drop open.

“Do I inspire you now?” Yuuri asked, raising one eyebrow just a little bit.

Victor resisted the urge to drop to his knees. He swallowed, feeling his head spin. “Yes.”

Yuuri remained where he was, as if he was waiting for Victor to do something, but what was it?

If Yuuri had done this a few months ago, Victor would’ve been on his knees right away, undoing the bottom of his bodysuit to give him the most satisfying blowjob he could manage, but Yuuri had made it quite clear to Victor that he wasn’t interested in having sex with him anymore.

“You can come closer, if you like,” Yuuri offered.

Now Victor had to answer the call. Was it a call? He saw the way Yuuri looked at him and his feet brought him to Yuuri’s side on their own.

He stood next to the boy, staring down at his chest and saying nothing. Several seconds passed before Victor realized what he was doing. He was making Yuuri uncomfortable, surely! What kind of person stood and stared like he did?

“The… uh…details are really nice,” he said, referring to the lace.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor absent-mindedly traced out the pattern on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri gave a long sigh. Victor let his finger go across, over the boy’s collarbone to the middle and then down his chest, then up to the collarbone again, across a little and down. Up, across and down. His finger reached Yuuri’s nipple and lingered there, tracing the swirls around and under it.

Yuuri was breathing really loudly.

Victor’s finger travelled up and over Yuuri’s shoulder. Victor circled him as the finger continued to Yuuri’s back, down then up a little, then sideways, then down and up. He worked his way over Yuuri’s back and down to his buttocks and only then did he notice the back of Yuuri’s bodysuit.

Victor’s finger stopped on the small of Yuuri’s back where the lace ended to reveal his buttocks completely.

“Wow,” he finally whispered and pulled his hand away.

“I… uh… I wore this for an ad once,” Yuuri told him, struggling for breath. “I think I still have the magazine with it. I can show it to you when –” Yuuri gasped loudly, unable to continue.

Victor slid his fingers down slowly. His mind raced and he wondered what to do next. He was all too aware of the bed behind him and of Yuuri’s loud breathing. Maybe he could drop to his knees first…

 

_Victor woke up on the morning of his first senior competition, determined to skate his best. He would have a big breakfast and go to the practice to make as much use of all the time he had as he could._

_A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He walked over to it. “Who is it?”_

_“Victor, it’s me.” That was Michael’s voice._

_Victor opened the door with a big smile. “Good morning, Michael! How are you?”_

_Instead of an answer Michael grabbed Victor by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall as he pressed his mouth against Victor’s._

_Victor lost track of time after that and missed most of the time allotted to practice. Yakov lectured him for a long time after that, but that didn’t matter half as much as the fact that when he went out on the ice he made one mistake after another, his mind still full of their kisses._

Victor pulled his hand away from Yuuri and back away until the backs of his legs hit the bed. “Sorry, I…” He couldn’t get the rest of the words out and bolted into the bathroom instead.

His heart beat fast as he closed the door behind himself and leaned against it. He put a hand on his chest to try to slow his heart down. He could see it now – arriving late to practice, messing up the free skate and not making it to the Final once again.

He was so close! Would he really let it slip away from him? He was 27. What if this was his last season? What if there were no more chances?

And then the enormity of what he’d just done hit him. He’d left a boyfriend wanting!

He opened the door, determined to apologize only to find Yuuri standing in his pants and pulling a shirt on. The bodysuit lay on the bed next to him.

“Yuuri?” he called, terrified of what the boy would do next. Was he about to walk away on Victor? Would he leave Victor right before a competition?

Yuuri turned and rushed over to Victor. “Are you ok? You ran off so fast that I was worried that you were feeling sick.” He looked into Victor’s face, as if trying to determine his sickness by his face.

“I just…” Victor closed his eyes and forced the truth out. “I got scared that I’ll get carried away and miss practice and…” He opened his eyes to see how Yuuri was taking it.

Yuuri was still smiling. “I set an alarm just in case.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up by way of a demonstration. “It’s set to go off in another 15 minutes.”

“Oh.” Victor opened his mouth to ask Yuuri if he wanted to continue, but Yuuri spoke first.

“Let’s go have breakfast and you can go over your routine again.”

So he didn’t want to do more.

 

Victor’s head was full of all kinds of doubts. Had his third place been nothing more than a fluke? With so many talented skaters competing against him, did he even deserve to make it into the Final?

The questions interfered with his practice and made him miss every jump he attempted. He saw the worry on Yuuri’s face, remembered how the boy hadn’t insisted they spend more time alone together and felt his spirits sink further.

He felt crushed and defeated before he even came out for the warmup with the last group. It had all been for nothing. He could already see his return home with humiliation written all over his face.

They called the last group out onto the ice and he followed them, feeling like he didn’t belong with them.

The audience seemed to be convinced of the same thing: as they called out the names of the other skaters they were all greeted with enthusiasm, but Victor got a very lukewarm response.

He raised his head and met Yuuri’s gaze. _I’m skating for him,_ he told himself. _Their opinion doesn’t matter._

Still his heart wasn’t in it and he went through the warmup without even attempting a single jump.

“Your warmup time is complete. Please exit the ice.”

Victor stepped out of the rink, cursing himself. How could he skate anything now? He hadn’t landed a single jump today. It was over. It was done.

The first skater from the group went out on the ice and Victor watched him, convinced that he himself would never skate that well.

Second skater.

He was running out of time! He needed more! Why couldn’t he go practice more? Just one more run-through?

Third skater.

“Victor,” Yuuri said softly.

He turned to give his coach a terrified look. “I can’t do it,” he whispered. “I just can’t.”

Yuuri put his arms around Victor. “You can.”

The third skater finished and Victor knew he had to step out on the ice. He would just go out there and embarrass himself again and disappoint Yuuri.

“Victor,” Yuuri whispered again.

He nodded and freed himself to step out onto the ice, stumbling on the way and almost forgetting to remove his skate guards.

“Victor…” Yuuri said again, taking the skate guards from Victor’s hand and raising his voice a little.

He had to do this. There was no backing out now. He just had to accept that he would never become the top figure skater in the world.

“Victor,” Yuuri called again and Victor skated back to the boards with his head lowered.

What pep talk would Yuuri give him? How could he still have faith in Victor after that practice session? Would Victor be able to listen to an inspirational speech while knowing that there was no hope for him?

“I messaged Phichit earlier,” Yuuri began and Victor stared at him incomprehension. Who was Phichit? What did he have to do with skating? “And he sent me that ad with the lace body suit.” He held out his phone and Victor stared at an image of Yuuri standing in a corner with a hand resting on each wall. There was a thong in his teeth as if to emphasise that he wasn’t wearing any underwear this time. He stood with his legs slightly apart and looked back over his shoulder. Black lace covered his back and arms all the way down to his wrists, but it left his buttocks very much on display.

“What do you think, Bunny?” Yuuri asked softly.

Victor raised his eyes. “It’s beautiful, Eros.”

Yuuri put his phone away with the words, “He promised to find a poster of it for me. I guess we’ll be able to test out your theory about –”

Victor threw his arms around Yuuri and held him tight. Yuuri really was very perfect.

“And maybe we can finish what we started this morning?” Yuuri finished, dropping the words right into Victor’s ear.

“Next on the ice…” the words dropped on Victor like a bucket of cold water.

He released Yuuri and skated away, going backwards so he could keep his eyes on his coach for as long as possible.

He remembered Yuuri’s words about being caught in his dressing room. He wanted to see what the room looked like.

He stopped in the middle of the ice and thought of Yuuri’s flirting, of the way the man called him “Bunny”, of how he stood in the doorway in that lace bodysuit.

The music began to play and Victor moved like Yuuri, all flirtation and smiles. He played with the audience. So what if they didn’t care about him? He would make them care.

He got to his first jump. _Let it be a triple this time,_ he decided and jumped it as lightly as he could. He landed cleanly and kept going.

Every time he came to a jump he made the decision mere seconds before as to what it would be. He got halfway through without a single mistake and pushed on. He could feel his strength start to give out.

_Almost there. Just a little more._

Another jump and he had two more left.

It had to be the next one, there was no other choice now.

And what had been a triple salchow before became a quad salchow instead.

He heard the applause this time and as he passed by Yuuri he saw the boy blow him a kiss. Victor pretended to catch it with his hand and pressed it to his heart.

Last jump.

He could make this one a triple, but something – maybe it was Yuuri’s kiss, maybe it was some sort of stubbornness – reared its head. _No,_ it said, _no, there will be one more quad. That Final is almost within my grasp._

And he jumped. It was a quad he’d practiced in secret from Yuuri and the quad everyone least expected from Victor Nikiforov – the quadruple flip.

He felt his skates leave the ice, felt the spin and as he came down he knew that something was just a little off. He wobbled on his feet, but kept his balance. One quad flip successfully completed.

And the audience erupted.

Victor could barely remember how he finished the skate, but the next moment he was bowing to them as they threw him flowers.

The announcer shouted something through the speakers, but Victor didn’t care what it was. His face hurt from smiling, but still he kept on.

He turned and saw Yuuri standing at the exit, waiting with his arms spread wide and tears on his face.

He sprinted across the ice to Yuuri, feeling as if he was in a dream, a long lovely dream that would never end.

They threw their arms around each other and Yuuri pressed his lips to Victor’s.

It was then that he could see clearly what he wanted most of all, more than anything else in the world. He broke the kiss and met Yuuri’s eye. “You asked me what I want and I know what the answer is. I want to surprise the audience. I want to do something they aren’t expecting when I go out on the ice.”


	10. Diamonds for Eros

A figure skater can have many ambitions. Winning every competition is a common one. Breaking the world record score is another that many hope for. And then there is the ambition of being the first figure skater to succeed in a specific jump at a competition.

Yuri Plisetsky, Russia’s pride and the next generation of figure skating, planned to be the first to jump the quadruple flip. He almost had it and planned to show it off at the Final.

So how was it that Victor Nikiforov, whose name had become synonymous with disappointment at Yuri’s rink, beat him to it?

He stared in amazement as Victor finished his skate and wondered what could possibly bring about a change like this. Did Victor have a secret twin? Was that it? Or had he been not trying all these years? Was that even possible?

He gritted his teeth as he went out on the ice.

“Yuri –” Yakov began.

“Shut up, old man,” he cut his coach off abruptly.

He knew he would get a score higher than Victor’s and had no doubts that when they competed in the Final he would win. He _was_ better than Victor. He knew all of that. But right here and in this very moment with his quad flip Victor was the true winner of the Rostelecom Cup.

Yuri muttered a swearword under his breath. How ridiculous! If the other skaters hadn’t made all those mistakes, Victor wouldn’t have had a real chance of making it into the Final and _he_ was the one to jump the quad flip?

He was angry with Victor for acting so strangely this season and, if he was entirely honest with himself, he was also angry with himself.

His skating paid the price for his anger and he made mistakes here and there that he normally wouldn’t have made.

He ended the skating feeling even angrier with himself and for the first time in a long while he dreaded seeing what marks the judges would give him.

But there was no avoiding the inevitable. The screen showed his scores and while the “1” was next to his name just as he’d expected, when he saw the actual score he got, he scowled. He was a mere half a point above Victor’s score. How was he, Yuri Plisetsky, half a point away from _Victor_ of all people? It was like something out of a nightmare.

He wondered briefly if he _was_ dreaming and then pushed the thought out of his mind. It was ridiculous.

Yakov was in full lecture mode and, for once, Yuri tried to listen to what his coach was saying in case there was something useful for him in this lecture.

He wasn’t alone to feel both surprised and frustrated with this turn of events: many skaters, especially those who had been certain that they’d make it into the Final had thoughts that ran along the same lines.

 

“Victor!” Yuuri exclaimed, seeing the scoreboard update with the results of the free skate. “Victor!” He threw his arms around Victor as he stared in mute shock at the results.

Third.

He made it to the Final. After so many years of not qualifying, of missing by a few points, or missing by a lot of points, he finally made it!

Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away.

He made it.

 

As soon as it became clear that Victor made it to the Final the press lost all interest in all of the other skaters. Newspapers that didn’t normally cover sports suddenly discovered that they wanted an interview with Victor and Yuuri. Gossip columns wished to know every single possible detail of their relationship and called to make personal questions that made Yuuri uncomfortable.

They learned to ignore calls from unknown numbers.

One morning Victor got a call from a number that he recognized. The call had caught him by surprise and made his voice tremble when he answered it. “Hello?”

“Vitya,” Yakov’s voice sounded on the other sound of the phone, “listen, I’m sorry. I was wrong to decline to be your coach. I know it may sound strange coming at a time like this, but I think I can help you get into the Olympics.”

The magic word was like a bolt of electricity for Victor. Olympics! He didn’t dare hope for that much, despite it being a lifelong dream for him to make it into the Olympics.

“I need to talk to my coach first,” he replied.

“Victor, please…” Yakov hesitated, surprising Victor who didn’t think that the old coach ever doubted himself, “…please think about this seriously. I know I was wrong. I want to make amends. Victor, don’t throw it all away again.”

“I’ll call you back,” Victor promised, shocked by the old coach’s words.

He heard the old man give a heavy sigh right before they both hung up.

He could’ve done this years ago. He could’ve been at the top. All he needed was to stay focused on figure skating and practice regularly. But why hadn’t he?

He closed his eyes and stood with his phone clutched in one hand. He remembered watching the other skaters devote their whole lives to their career, because he remembered thinking that he didn’t want to spend every hour skating or training. Because he was terrified of waking up one morning to find that he was alone and unwanted.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. He had been alone and unwanted when he’d met Yuuri. He thought of Yuuri’s congratulatory kiss and his own response. He’d been selfish again. Maybe he’d deserved all those exes after all.

He stared at the photo Yuuri had sent him after it was announced that he’d made it to the Final and smiled.

What was Yuuri doing now?

 

A pair of long legs sparkled under the soft lights. There were no stiletto heels on the feet this time: two bare feet rested on a white pillow covered in long fur. A line of diamonds went up the side of one thigh. The wearer turned slightly to show the same line on their other thigh. The wearer kept turning until they were on their stomach to show that the string of diamonds went across and then down the middle of their buttocks.

They turned slowly and the gaze followed the line to where a hand lay draped over the person’s crotch.

“ _Diamonds are a boy’s best friend,_ ” a voice insisted.

The hand pulled away, dropping diamonds onto the person’s lap. The little fountain of jewels sparkled and dazzled the eye as it fell.

The last diamond dropped and two hands lowered themselves onto the wearer’s lower stomach. The gaze rose with the hands, showing diamonds criss-crossing over the person’s front.

The two hands stopped over the person’s nipples, as if to cover them from view and the camera pulled back.

The face of _Victor’s Secret_ lay on white pillows embroidered with diamonds. There were diamonds in his hair and two large diamond earrings dangled from his ears. There were diamond bracelets and diamond rings on his hands. A necklace made from dozens of little diamonds dropped to the middle of his chest where a big diamond sparkled just over his crossed arms.

His hands slipped down slowly, revealing bare nipples that were even more noticeable amid the sparkle and dazzle of all the diamonds.

His eyes were closed and he breathed slowly. A blush spread over his cheeks, as if he was in deep ecstasy over all the diamonds surrounding him. His breathing was loud. In. Out. In. Out.

And then his eyelids rose, he fixed the viewer with a hypnotizing stare and sang,

“ _Diamonds are a boy’s best friend._ ” The words sounded erotic on his lips, as if he was confessing to what made him scream in bed.

A smile twisted his lips and he sang the line again. “ _Diamonds are…_ ” he took a long slow breath, _“a boy’s best friend._ ”

“And cut!” a voice shouted.

The crew ran around, trying to move equipment from one place to another, and Yuuri sat up, doing his best not to frown.

The whole ad was ridiculous. He hated diamonds and – worse still – he wasn’t wearing a single real diamond for the ad. Maybe it made sense, but he thought it made the whole thing even more ridiculous.

He didn’t dare say anything, however. According to Phichit, Swarovski was paying them good money for the ad and, so, he was stuck spending the whole day pretending that the mere sight of a diamond was enough to send him into the deepest throes of ecstasy.

“I think we’ve got what we wanted,” someone shouted.

Yuuri gathered the pile of stones from his lap and dropped them into the little bowl one of the assistants had brought them in. He made for the dressing room, impatient to pull everything off.

The door barely closed behind him when it opened again with a soft creak.

Yuuri saw Phichit enter the room and turned his back on him, determined to pull the annoying diamond harness off no matter who was watching.

As far as he was concerned, the day was done and no one would stop him from changing into his regular clothes while he listened to Phichit talk.

“We got a call from… five? different newspapers last week,” Phichit began, “all with questions about you and Victor.”

Yuuri froze with his shirt half over his head and then remembered himself and continued putting it on. He straightened it and turned to face Phichit, standing in just a pair of underwear and a long shirt. “About me?” He was only a little surprised. Of course they tracked down his job, _of course_.

Phichit nodded. “About _coach_ Yuuri, it seems.”

Yuuri looked away.

“Why didn’t you tell me _your_ Victor is a figure skater? It would’ve prepared me for some of their questions, at least.”

“I thought they’d… I didn’t know how to tell you,” Yuuri confessed.

Phichit laughed. “Why not? You can tell me everything. You know that!”

Yuuri raised his eyes and looked into Phichit’s face. “It’s a bit… complicated.” The word barely did his situation justice, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

He braced himself for Phichit’s prying, expecting awkward questions and worrying that he would be unable to answer any of them.

“He seems to be doing well with you as coach,” Phichit pointed out and winked. “The power of love, right?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to explain that being in love was the last thing Victor needed right now and changed his mind. He nodded instead. Best to just agree and move on.

“I had a chat with my boss,” Phichit said, “and we wondered if we could get Victor for an ad. We can talk money details with him. What do you think? Will he agree to it? Will you let him pose for ads, coach?”

Yuuri stared at Phichit in amazement. “Really?”

Phichit nodded. “Yes.”

Yuuri lowered his eyes, saw his own bare legs and grabbed his pants to pull them on.

“Well?”

He felt his head spin. The thought of Victor modelling in lingerie filled him with a strange excitement. The skater wouldn’t turn it down, Yuuri was sure of it.

“I’ll talk to him and let you know.”

“Why don’t we find out now?” Phichit offered. “You’re going to him right away, aren’t you? I can give you a lift and the three of us can talk.”

Yuuri hesitated. He knew Phichit well enough to see that the man was eager to find any excuse just to meet Victor. Would he bother the skater with odd questions? Yuuri wasn’t sure. But, on the other hand, sometimes he was stuck waiting for a long time for the bus and then he had to walk quite a bit from the stop. All that took time, but a car would make it all so much faster.

“Alright,” he agreed. “If it’s not too much trouble.” He bit his lip. He was starting to sound like Victor!

They gathered their things and left. Yuuri felt strange, leaving work with someone other than Victor at his side.

Phichit was very proud of his car and he spent the whole ride boasting to Yuuri about how good it was and how little he’d paid for it.

Yuuri barely understood a word. He sat in the front passenger seat and wondered how to ask Victor the right question. It surprised him how quickly they got to the rink and he reflected sadly on how much time he could’ve been saving every day, if he had a car and could drive it.

Sometimes when the mood took him Yuuri borrowed a pair of skates and went out on the ice with Victor. This time he made straight for the rink where they found Victor training all by himself.

“Victor!” he called.

The skater turned and dashed across the ice to join Yuuri. He caught Yuuri in a big embrace and held him tight. “Yuuri! I missed you!”

Yuuri’s heart beat fast and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy this moment of their reunion.

He felt Victor shudder and heard him whisper, “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Yuuri wanted to kiss him, to let their lips join and to take in every sensation that followed. Just as he moved to act on the thought, he remembered that he hadn’t come alone.

He pulled away just enough to be able to look into Victor’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing by Victor’s expression that something serious had happened.

“I… uh…” Victor’s eye fell on Phichit and Yuuri remembered himself.

“This is Phichit,” he explained, stepping away from Victor, but still hanging on to him by one hand. “He gave me a ride and he wants to talk to you.” Instinct made Yuuri stop talking and give Victor a piercing stare. “What is it? Did you something happen?”

Victor looked uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to address the subject. Yuuri had come to understand what this discomfort meant: he had a question for Yuuri and while he had a certain answer in mind already, but he knew that Yuuri wouldn’t agree with him.

This needed careful handling. He threw a fearful glance at Phichit and the man understood.

“Sorry,” he spoke up, “do you have a washroom here?”

They gave him directions and watched him go before Yuuri turned to face Victor again.

“What happened?” Yuuri asked again. “Did someone from the press call?”

“No, not from the press.” Victor looked away. “It was… Yakov called me earlier.”

Yuuri tensed. “Why? What did he want?”

For a moment he was sure that Victor would lie, but when he spoke again Yuuri knew it was the truth. “He offered to be my coach again.”

“That’s wonderful!” Yuuri exclaimed as he felt a sharp pain pierce his insides. He could already see their farewell and the thought alone was enough to make tears rise to his eyes.

“No, it’s not,” Victor countered. “If I accept, I’ll have to return to Russia and live there until the end of the season. It means I’ll have to live apart from you and I don’t want to do that.”

Yuuri put his arms around Victor as he looked into his face. At moments like these it was so hard to think clearly. “I don’t want to live alone, either,” he said. “I want to stay with you. Maybe I can quit my job for a little while,” he mused aloud.

“I can’t let you do that!” Victor protested. “You’ve already given me so much. No, I’ll stay here.”

“Victor,” Yuuri gave a slight shake of his head. “How can you say that? This is a real chance for you to get better. You should use it.”

“Yuuri…” Victor sighed and put his forehead against Yuuri’s. On his skates he towered almost a whole head over Yuuri, but in that moment neither of them noticed it. “Yuuri…”

The name came out like a sigh. It made a shudder pass through Yuuri’s body and he stood still, holding his breath and waiting for what Victor would say to that.

After a moment as long as eternity, someone cleared their throat, making both men turn their heads. Phichit gave them a bright smile.

“Sorry to interrupt, but…” Victor and Yuuri pulled apart, as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have, Phichit gave them both a searching look. “But I came here to talk to Victor.”

Yuuri’s heart sank. He gave a slight shake of his head to try to hint to Phichit that he shouldn’t, that all this was a bad idea, but Phichit ignored him.

“I don’t suppose Yuuri ever talked about me,” Phichit began. “I’m his boss at _Victor’s Secret_.”

“Oh.” Victor pulled away from Yuuri completely and stumbled out of the rink to shake Phichit’s hand. “Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise.”

Yuuri watched them talk to each other, feeling cold from the absence of Victor’s touch.

“I want to offer you a job,” Phichit announced and Yuuri knew that Phichit had already given Victor’s features a thorough study while they’d been talking to each other. “It’s a modelling job,” Phichit went on.

Victor frowned. Phichit’s offer wasn’t just unexpected – it threw Victor off and confused him. “Why would you want me to model when you have someone as beautiful as Yuuri working for you?”

Yuuri blushed and looked at Phichit. What would he say to that?

“Yuuri is the best model we’ve got,” Phichit agreed with a nod, “but we thought that getting a figure skater named Victor for a few ads in _Victor’s Secret_ would be a good idea.”

There was still a look of confusion on Victor’s face, so Phichit continued. “Just think of all those athletes who appear in ads for different things.”

Yuuri’s imagination chose that point to gift him an image of Victor in an ad for _Victor’s Secret_ and he turned bright red. He coughed and put a hand to his face to try to cover it.

“I think you made a mistake,” Victor said gently. “I’m very flattered by your offer, but I think you should set your sights on one of the top figure skaters.”

Yuuri prepared to make his excuses to Phichit, but the man took it all in his stride. “Of course, we are only interested in the top figure skaters. Now, my knowledge of figure skating is very limited, I admit, but I was under the impression that only the top six figure skaters made it into the Grand Prix Final.”

There was no way to argue against that and all Victor could do was nod. “That’s true…” His eye fell on Yuuri who tried to give him an encouraging smile. “How long will the photoshoot take?”

“Oh… a day, or two, no more than that,” Phichit assured him.

“Are you comfortable with taking your clothes off in front of a camera?” Yuuri asked, putting his arms around Victor. He was suddenly feeling light and a little giddy.

“No idea,” Victor admitted.

For some reason, the words made Yuuri giggle. He wanted to lean forward and kiss Victor. It cost all his self-control to resist the temptation and to settle for merely holding on to Victor. “Maybe we’ll find out? I hope the money will be good.”

“Oh, it will be of course!” Phichit assured. “Enough for two tickets to Russia, I should think,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Yuuri paled and clung tighter to Victor. “We should go,” he said. Yakov will be a much better coach, I’m sure.”

“But, Yuuri…” There was the doubt again. Something shone in Victor’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

Yuuri pressed his cheek against Victor’s. “I promise to look after you,” he said.

Victor trembled and buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. He was terrified. Something about coming back to his old coach frightened him.

“I will look after you,” Yuuri repeated.

They held on for a long time after that. When at least they did let each other go, they discovered that Phichit had disappeared.

 

Night fell. They made dinner together, but this time Yuuri didn’t get a chance to enjoy it: all his thoughts were on one question: how would they survive in Russia until the end of the season?

 _I’ll try to get a job, of course,_ Yuuri thought, _but how much will the rent cost? What about the food?_ He’d already discovered that tickets to Russia were very expensive and they still had to fly to the Final somehow.

“Victor,” Yuuri said after a long silence, “can we stay with your parents?” He hated himself for having to ask that question.

“Oh, I expect that they’ll insist upon it,” Victor told Yuuri.

“I like them already,” Yuuri declared, trying his best to look happy at the idea of a move.

Victor smiled and Yuuri felt some of his unease evaporate. He wanted to climb under the table and tease Victor. He wished they could have a night to give themselves to each other with abandon.

But Victor wasn’t in the right mood and not interested in Yuuri in the same way. Yuuri wondered what Victor would think, if Yuuri confessed to him that he’d lain in front of the cameras earlier that day, doing his best to imagine their first night together.

Victor wasn’t just not in the mood: he looked downright miserable. Yuuri put a hand over his. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can face everyone,” Victor admitted in a whisper.

Yuuri got up and walked around the table. He took Victor’s head with both hands and rested his forehead against his. “I will protect you,” he promised for what felt like the tenth time that day. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here to look after you.”

Victor drew a shuddering breath and placed his hands over Yuuri’s. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you.”

“Sleep with me,” Yuuri suddenly whispered, surprising even himself.

“What?” Victor asked, pulling away.

“Remember how we slept side by side at the Rostelecom Cup?” Yuuri asked, pretending that his cheeks weren’t burning red from embarrassment. “Let’s sleep like that again.”

“Alright…” Victor whispered.

Yuuri slid a thumb down Victor’s nose and put on his most innocent expression.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Victor offered and Yuuri moved away to let him rise to his feet.

This response shouldn’t have surprised him, but still Yuuri felt a tinge of disappointment at the sound of those words.

 

Two weeks later they were on their way to St. Petersburg. There was still some paperwork for Yuuri to sort out and all kinds of things to figure out how to do, but right here and right now Yuuri stood waiting for their luggage, feeling as if he’d just spent a week on the plane.

 _Just a little more,_ he told himself and tried not to worry about meeting Victor’s parents and what sort of impression he would make on them. Victor had called them to say that he was coming and he’d told them about Yuuri, but he’d referred to Yuuri as a coach and a friend – two descriptors that shouldn’t have hurt as much as they had.

They hadn’t realized how much effort the move would cost them and they’d had to leave some of the paperwork for later. Yuuri arrived as a tourist would and he certainly felt like one: the language and the alphabet were both completely foreign to him.

But the thought that his resignation was a mistake didn’t even cross his mind. His boss’s boss, Celestino, on the other hand thought otherwise and had done his best to talk Yuuri into staying.

 

_“I’m willing to double your salary,” Celestino declared with an amused look on his face, as if he thought this would be enough to make Yuuri change his mind._

_How was he to know that the moment Victor left the country all the money in the world became meaningless in Yuuri’s eyes?_

_Yuuri shook his head. “I’m leaving the country, Mr. Cialdini, and I don’t know for how long. Possibly until the end of April, possibly for longer.”_

_Celestino picked up the paperweight on his desk and turned it around in his hands as if suddenly very fascinated with it. “Phichit told me that you’re going to Russia. Is it true?”_

_“Yes.” He could hardly believe it himself, but he couldn’t worry about that now._

_“Shame. We have offices in Canada and in France, but nothing in Russia.” Celestino sat with a thoughtful expression on his face while Yuuri wondered if he ought to get up and leave now._

_Finally, Celestino opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled and envelope out. “They’re not very happy about this,” he said and nodded in the direction of his phone, referring to his bosses. “You’re free to do whatever you like, of course, but I took the liberty of writing up a letter of recommendation for you.” He handed the envelope to Yuuri. “It’s addressed to_ Intim _,” he added and raised his eyebrows meaningfully._

_Yuuri took it, feeling puzzled. He’d never heard of the company before. They had lots of competition, of course, but he thought he knew all the big-name companies. “Thank you.”_

_“They’re not as well-known as_ Victor’s Secret _, but if you decide to work for them, they will match your salary here. And…” Celestino looked around the room, as if searching for hidden spies, “…this is strictly between you and me,” he lowered his voice and Yuuri leaned closer, “if you decide to work for them,_ Victor’s Secret _will buy them out.” He grinned. “We can’t let the face of_ Victor’s Secret _leave so easily, right?”_

_Yuuri stared at the envelope, feeling uneasy about the whole arrangement._

_“Well…” Celestino added, realizing what he’d just said. “It’s entirely up to you. You are free to work for anyone you like, of course, but if you go to them, you’ll find that things will very quickly return to the way they were.”_

_Yuuri raised his eyes from the envelope and did his best not to think about what depended on his choice. “Thank you for everything.”_

_Celestino rose to his feet and shook Yuuri’s hand. “No, thank_ you _.”_

 

“Yuuri!” Victor called, startling Yuuri out of his half-dreaming state. “I got our suitcases!”

He hurried over to join Victor, doing his best to push all his worries aside.

They’d sold off some of their things and gave away others, leaving only what they needed. Somehow this still left them with a whole suitcase full of Yuuri’s lingerie, but neither of them had the heart to get rid of any of it.

Victor took out his phone and texted someone.

“Will someone meet us?” Yuuri asked.

“My parents promised to be here.”

They made for the exit together. As Yuuri reached out to take Victor’s arm the air filled with screams. He looked around in a panic.

A crowd stood in the arrivals hall and chanted Victor’s name. And then the penny dropped for Yuuri: they were all fans.

He stared in amazement at the big posters in their hands. Some were in Russian while others had phrases like “we love you” and “welcome home” in English.

He looked at Victor, wondering how he was taking this reception. Victor looked stunned.

 _Please don’t say that you don’t deserve this,_ Yuuri begged him mentally.

A group to their left squealed in delight and begged for autographs. Victor oblige. He signed every photo and piece of paper held out to him.

One fan pushed his way through the crowd and bared his chest. “Can I have your autograph here, please? I have a marker!”

Victor laughed, but Yuuri was too stunned to laugh along with him.

More people flocked to Victor. Some fans reached out and tried to touch him while others wanted selfies with him.

 _Where were you during the Rostelecom Cup?_ Yuuri wondered bitterly. He did his best to hide his true feelings and to appear thrilled, as if this reception delighted him.

Victor laughed and took it all in his stride. When a fan asked for a date he just laughed harder and said nothing.

Yuuri paled.

Finally Victor made his way to the end of the crowd and stopped before two people who could’ve only been his parents. They threw their arms around him and Yuuri saw Victor’s mother weep into her son’s shoulder.

 _What am I doing here?_ He felt like an intruder. To make things worse, he couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying to each other.

A young man came forward and Victor’s parents said something about him to Victor.

The stranger was handsome and overconfident. He held himself like someone expecting a reward simply for existing.

Victor’s smile froze on his face and he tensed.

In that moment Yuuri knew exactly who was before him. He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Victor’s. “Will you introduce me to your parents, Victor?”

“What?” He turned to give Yuuri a lost smile. “Sorry?”

Yuuri let his left hand rest on Victor’s back as he held out his right to Victor’s parents. “I’m Yuuri Katsuki,” he told them.

“This is my coach,” Victor piped up, remembering himself.

Yuuri gave Victor a gentle peck on his cheek. “And boyfriend,” he added.

Victor coloured, but didn’t argue.

The ex, who Yuuri continued to pointedly ignore, scowled. This hadn’t been part of his plan.

To Yuuri’s surprise, both parents took turns to hug him and thank him for looking after their son. For a moment he thought he’d done something wrong, but it was too late to back out now.

“Your son is the best person in the world,” he told Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov with the deepest sincerity. He turned to catch Victor’s eye. “I told him this before, but he refused to believe me.”

“I… uh…” Victor stammered out, getting flustered under their collective stares.

“ _My_ Victor is too modest.” That was laying it on thick and Yuuri knew it, but this time he looked the ex right in the eye and did his best to communicate with just a stare what he thought of someone who dared to hurt Victor and what will happen to that someone if they had the nerve to try it again.

Victor – whether out of a wish to play along, or for a reason all of his own – raised Yuuri’s hand to his lips.

Yuuri’s heart beat fast in his chest. He did his best to keep from blushing too much and gave the parents another smile.

“You must be tried!” Mrs. Nikiforov exclaimed. “Let’s all go home where you can rest.”

Rest. At the sound of that word Yuuri felt himself sway a little on his feet. He nodded and did his best to act like someone who wasn’t too tired to stand, but wouldn’t object to a bit of rest.

There was a short battle over who would carry their luggage that Victor’s parents won and then they led the way out into the parking lot and to their car. The terrible ex followed them and Yuuri realized with an unpleasant feeling that they would all be going in the same car.

The ex put on an act of being nice and asked Victor various questions about his life in America. Yuuri walked between them and pretended that the questions were all intended for him.

It was a very unpleasant walk and Yuuri remembered it for a long time afterwards.

When they got to the car Yuuri took the middle seat and set off to flirt with Victor as shamelessly as he dared. He kept one hand on Victor’s knee throughout the whole ride and leaned close to him for a look out the window. He was fascinated with every building they passed and asked Victor questions about each of them, which Victor struggled to answer.

“What you’re seeing is the back of St. Petersburg,” Mr. Nikiforov explained. “After you rest –”

“Tomorrow,” Mrs. Nikiforov put in.

“Yes, we’ll take you to the heart of St. Petersburg tomorrow,” Mr. Nikiforov promised.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. His gaze returned to Victor. The man looked exhausted and Yuuri pulled a hand through his hair with a smile. “Just a little longer, darling.”

“So, Yuuri,” Mr. Nikiforov began, throwing a glance at the rear view mirror to try and catch Yuuri’s eye. “Are you a figure skater too? I admit that Victor told us very little about you.”

For a moment all of Yuuri’s bravado was gone. He gave Victor a helpless look and wondered how he could possibly answer a question like that.

“Yuuri is a lingerie model,” Victor piped up.

 _Great qualifications for a coach, I know,_ Yuuri thought, feeling a little embarrassed. “I used to figure skate,” he explained, but even that was a very poor explanation. How could he explain any of this anyway? Admit that they met and becoming Victor’s coach seemed like a good idea at the time? Could he tell Victor’s parents that his son was barely scraping by and couldn’t afford a real coach?

“Yuuri has a musicality and a talent for choreography,” Victor added and Yuuri remembered hearing him tell the press that once. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now he wondered if Victor believed those words himself.

The car stopped and Yuuri stared out the window at an old apartment building. They’d arrived.

They finally said goodbye to the ex here and went up the stairs to the apartment.

They had a lot of steps to climb and Yuuri soon started to curse himself for taking so many of his things. Did he really need this much lingerie?

The apartment building was old. The paint was chipping off the walls. There was no elevator at all and as soon as they reached the right door and entered the apartment Yuuri saw that Victor’s parents didn’t live in conditions any better than Victor himself.

 _Now they have to feed us too,_ he thought with a pang of guilt.

Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov gave them a huge warm welcome. There was a table laden with food waiting for them as soon as they walked in, but Mrs. Nikiforov didn’t let them come near it, insisting that they rest a little first.

“We weren’t sure if you wanted one room,” she said uncertainly, “or two.”

Yuuri stared at their room in silence for several seconds. In the few minutes he’d had to take in the apartment, he’d seen how small it was – there were two bedrooms, one room that was almost completely taken up by a grand piano, a living room and a tiny kitchen just big enough for all the appliances a kitchen needed.

He took Victor’s hand with the words, “I sleep better when Victor is beside me,” he declared. “You don’t mind sharing, do you, Victor?”

Victor shook his head. “Of course I don’t mind.”

“I’ll go change,” Yuuri said and stepped into their bedroom. It really was very small, but Yuuri was determined to make it work for the both of them.

Victor followed him into the room and closed the door behind him. “You don’t have to do this,” he said in a love voice.

Yuuri raised his eyes from his suitcase and gave Victor a surprised look.

“Pretend to be my boyfriend, I mean,” Victor clarified with some embarrassment. “I know you were trying to protect me from –”

Yuuri rose and walked around the bed towards Victor. He took both of his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. He had a sudden image of the next few minutes. He imagined himself insisting on the pretence and keeping it up in front of everyone else. He imagined it all driving him insane until he could no longer tell when he’d lied about his feelings and when he’d been honest.

 _No_ , he decided. _I can’t do that._ He met Victor’s gaze directly. “I want to be your boyfriend for real. What do you say to that?”

“I will do my best,” Victor replied without stopping to think.

Yuuri gave a slight shake of his head. “You don’t need to give me anything. Just let me look after you. Please?”

Still Victor looked like he was about to argue.

Yuuri kissed Victor on one cheek and then on the other. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassured Victor. “Just focus on your training. Today we’ll rest and tomorrow we’ll go to your rink.”

“What about your job?” Victor had been asking the question several times a day every day since they’d decided to move and Yuuri had always avoided a direct answer, not knowing what to say. This time he pecked Victor on the nose and answered.

“Celestino gave me a recommendation letter on my last day at work, so you don’t need to worry – I have it all sorted out.”

He hadn’t decided on just what he’d do, but surely it didn’t hurt to go see what sort of place it was?

Victor held Yuuri close to his heart and, for a moment, Yuuri closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the full terror of what they’d done.

“Alright,” Yuuri said after a short pause. “I’m going to change into something else. I need to make a good impression on your parents, after all.”

“You already did.”

 

After their welcome dinner Yuuri started nodding off and Victor, who was still too awake to have any hopes of falling asleep soon, persuaded him to go to sleep first. This earned him a tender goodnight kiss and murmurs of approval from his parents.

The three of them stayed up late after that. His parents asked about his life in America and he did his best to answer as truthfully as possible without worrying them too much.

Finally his mother rose to her feet and walked over to him. “Yuuri has a good heart. I’m very happy for you.”

Victor lowered his eyes. Yuuri was very kind to him and often Victor wondered what he’d done to deserve such kindness.

His mother put her arms around him and whispered, “Sorry about…” she avoided saying his name, as if it was a curse of some kind, “…but he insisted and I couldn’t find the heart to say no.”

“It’s alright,” Victor reassured her, but a different part of him – a new part born from living with Yuuri for the last few months – was angry that she couldn’t have thought up a way to say no.

 _Then again,_ he told himself, _she doesn’t know what he did._

“Yuuri protects me,” he assured his mother and got up to go to sleep before she could ask him just what Yuuri needed to protect him from.

He brushed his teeth and took a shower, taking his time and berating himself for stalling. Was Yuuri already asleep? Would Victor wake him up if he entered the room?

He walked back to the bedroom and spotted his father sitting on the sofa in the living room and watching him.

 _No choice now,_ he told himself and opened the door.

Yuuri lay asleep on his side. The blanket had slid off his shoulders to reveal the grey shirt of his pajama underneath. Victor sat down on the bed and cast a glance over Yuuri’s sleeping form.

There was a gentle smile on Yuuri’s lips. He was dreaming of something pleasant, then.

Victor stared for a long time at Yuuri’s arms and, gathering all his courage, he lay down, putting those arms around himself.

Yuuri didn’t stir from his sleep and Victor let himself rest the back of his head against Yuuri’s chest.

He worried that sleep wouldn’t come right away, that he’d be tempted to turn and end up waking Yuuri up, but he drifted off almost as soon as he closed his eyes.

 

Morning came, accompanied by the sound of an argument outside their window. Someone nearby blasted horrible tuneless music and the sun peered in through the windows. More sleep was simply impossible now.

Victor turned over and found himself face to face with Yuuri. To his surprise, the man went on sleeping as if it was the middle of a dark and quiet night.

Victor smiled fondly at Yuuri. It felt so good to lie enveloped in his arms like this. He shifted his legs and felt them slide against Yuuri’s. Yuuri’s body was so warm. As soon as one of Victor’s feet poked out from under the blanket he realized just how cold it was in the room.

What time was it? Did he dare check? And what would he do if he figured out that it was late? He was too comfortable here. He always wanted to lie here like this.

No, he didn’t, he suddenly reminded himself. He wanted to go out there and skate. He wanted to justify all their expectations. He wanted Yuuri to admit that all that effort hadn’t been in vain.

Still Yuuri slept on. His shirt opened up just enough to show his collarbone – a detail that filled Victor with more tender feelings.

Victor shifted down a little and pressed his lips against Yuuri’s collarbone. Yuuri didn’t stir from his sleep, but Victor found it hard to ignore that he’d just made the mistake of sliding his entire body against Yuuri’s. He blushed and bit his lip in frustration with himself.

He shifted Yuuri’s arms aside so he could get up without disturbing him too much, stopping to kiss each palm. At last Victor rose.

Yuuri turned over and slept on.

Victor brushed his teeth, changed and even had a quiet breakfast with his parents and still Yuuri was asleep.

“I don’t want to wake him up,” he admitted to his mother.

“But what about your training?” she asked in a worried whisper.

“I’m going for a run, mother,” he decided. “If he wakes up while I’m gone, ask him to wait for me, please. I’ll be quick.”

Yuuri had promised to take care of him, but maybe, from time to time, Victor could return the favour too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They probably use real diamonds for ads, but I thought it would be funnier if they didn’t.


	11. Yakov

There was something surreal about his jog that morning. Very little had changed in the ten years he’d been absent. For a moment, he felt as if he’d stepped back in time.  Even the pedestrians out on the streets were all the same as ten years ago.

He made several laps around the block before turning back.

There was the playground where he’d played as a toddler. There was the bench where his mother used to sit while she waited for him. There, behind the garbage bins, was the spot where he’d kissed a boy for the first time. Back then, he’d thought it was a romantic place, for some reason. All he could see now was the dirty wall around the garbage bins and he covered his nose as soon as the stink drifted over to where he stood.

He turned away and made for the apartment building.

The place was full of so many memories that every bend of the stairwell brought to mind images from his past. This was his home. He’d spent most of his life here. Why, then, didn’t it feel like home anymore? Perhaps he’d been away too long.

He sped up as he passed the door to the apartment directly below that of his parents. One of his exes had lived here once. He didn’t know what happened to him, but he had no wish to find out.

For a moment he wished he could start over and do it all again. It sounded so wonderful – to go through his life knowing ahead of time what to avoid. Perhaps then he would’ve been a better skater and he could’ve stayed in Russia and trained under Yakov. Perhaps then he would’ve had at least one gold medal in a senior championship. What was the use of thinking about what could never be?

He entered his parents’ apartment as quietly as possible in case Yuuri was still asleep.

The sound of voices drew him to the kitchen where he found Yuuri having breakfast while Victor’s parents looked on.

The boy turned to greet him. There were hints of sleep in his eyes and toast crumbs on his face, but it was the most beautiful sight Victor had seen in a long while.

“I’m home,” Victor said and really meant it.

 

Yakov greeted that day with mixed feelings. He was glad that Victor had decided to become his student once more, but they hadn’t said a word about his current coach and so he wasn’t sure what exactly the arrangement would turn out to be.

“Isn’t it supposed to be Victor’s first day back today?” one of his students asked someone else.

“Looks like he’s late,” another voice piped up. “Not that coming early will make the slightest bit of difference for him. It’s not like they give the gold medal for trying hard.”

Yakov gave both speakers a sharp look. Both skaters had missed making it into the Final and were very obviously looking for an outlet for their frustration.

Finally a door opened to admit Victor and his coach Yuuri. Both men were on skates. Yakov did his best to bury his disappointment behind what he hoped was a welcoming smile.

He had plenty of coaches working for him, all of which could offer instruction in various aspects of figure skating. He didn’t need a coach that had no qualifications whatsoever.

“Looks like he brought his boyfriend with him,” someone muttered and Yakov remembered how many of his pupils had a crush on Yuuri.

Why had he ever thought this was a good idea?

“He doesn’t look so hot in person. That’s too bad. I was hoping that the least I’d get out of this is the chance to stare at gorgeous Yuuri.”

Yakov hurried over to Victor and Yuuri, already sick of all the gossiping.

“Sorry we’re late,” Victor apologized, eyes lowered. He stood like a student at an exam he hadn’t studied for.

“It’s my fault,” Yuuri spoke up. “I have terrible jetlag after long flights and I ended up sleeping in this morning.”

Yakov waved all their excuses away. “Never mind all that now. I expect you to come earlier in the future, but I’ll let today pass. How was your flight?”

The two men exchanged a glance.

“Long,” Yuuri answered after a brief pause. He smiled. “But then we knew that when we agreed to come here.”

“Indeed,” Yakov agreed and allowed himself to look as if the joke had amused him. “Should we start?”

“What do you want me to do first?” Victor asked.

Yakov considered this. “Let’s start with what you have – show me your short program and free skate.”

Victor stepped out onto the ice. Yuuri rushed over to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently.

“Just… a little frightened,” he confided in a whisper.

Yakov did his best to keep his expression neutral, as if he hadn’t heard a word of what had been said.

“No one here likes me very much,” Victor added.

Yuuri put his arms around him. “What about me?”

“You don’t – I mean there are so many of them…”

Normally Yakov would’ve dismissed this kind of fear with an angry comment, but not this time. He thought back to the rude remarks the other skaters had made about Victor. Not just this morning, but the weeks before that. They grumbled when he lost and grumbled when he won. When Yuuri appeared at Victor’s side at a competition, someone made such a disgusting comment that Yakov banished them from the rink, declaring that he would never coach them again. He’d only heard that one person, but who knew how many of them thought the same way?

Of course, jealousy made people say all kinds of nasty things. Yuri Plisetsky himself was a target of unpleasant comments, but Yakov had never heard him say the kind of things the other skaters did. Yuri had a bad habit of hurling insults at everyone, but he tended to deal them out on a democratic basis and if he ever entertained thoughts worse than that, he was smart enough to not say them within Yakov’s earshot.

“Do what you do in competitions,” Yuuri suggested. “Skate for me.”

Victor nodded. “Sorry, I… I know I should be used to this by now, but it’s all the memories in this place and…” His voice trailed off as he continued to stare at his feet.

“This isn’t the kind of situation anyone should be used to,” Yuuri pointed out and Yakov nodded in agreement.

They exchanged a brief kiss and Victor went out on the ice.

Yakov stepped up to Yuuri. He considered saying something as Victor got ready, but what could he say? He wanted to know if Yuuri planned to coach with him, but after the hostile welcome the two men had received, Yakov couldn’t think of a good way to phrase his question.

He pushed all thoughts out of his head as soon as Victor started to skate and focused on his movements instead. He’d already thought about ways in which he could help Victor, but he wanted more.

Victor went through the short program without his music and Yakov noticed all the skaters in the rink stop what they were doing to watch. He expected Victor to stumble and make mistakes, but Victor kept going as if he didn’t notice all the attention he was getting.

“Victor works really hard,” Yuuri said softly. “I can’t help thinking how much better he would’ve been if I was an actual coach.”

“You’ve done a lot for him,” Yakov assured Yuuri. “Victor wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“Victor needs someone to stay by him no matter what happens,” Yuuri said simply. “That’s all I can give him.”

“That’s a lot.” _Don’t sell yourself short,_ Yakov thought. _That is more than anyone has ever given him. It’s not exactly something I can give him either._

Victor was happier now. It wasn’t just the switch in the tone between the short program and the free skate. Yakov could see that Victor was actually happier as a person.

 _If only he’d found you earlier,_ Yakov thought sadly. _How different his life would’ve been then!_

On the ice Victor jumped a quad salchow. The silence in the rink grew heavy, almost unbearably so. It was like watching someone write a difficult exam.

Even Yuuri, who usually cheered for Victor at every competition, was silent, as if sensing that this was not a good time for a show of support.

Still Victor kept going without a single mistake, as if determined to show that he deserved to be here. Although, as far as Yakov was concerned, Victor didn’t need to prove anything.

There was the quad flip again, clean this time as if Victor was throwing a challenge out to everyone watching. Yuri had been working on the quad flip, Yakov knew, but he struggled to land it consistently and here was Victor landing it before their eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Yakov didn’t take his eyes off Victor to see how Yuri took this jump. The skater would have to learn how to deal with this on his own.

Victor finished his routine and skated over to them. “What do you think, Yakov?”

Right. Now to business.

“Let’s start with the opening of the short program,” Yakov suggested. “If I remember correctly, the music is slow at the start, but that doesn’t excuse your weak opening. We’ll need something more elaborate.”

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a look. Victor nodded, “Yes, of course.”

“The middle portion…” Yakov didn’t stop. He went through all of the mental notes he’d made while he’d watched Victor, enumerating them in the order in which they’d occurred to him. He went through the list all at once, worried he’d miss something and determined that both Yuuri and Victor hear everything he had to say.

When, at last, he finished, he was met with a silence as both men considered what he’d said.

“What do you think, Yuuri?” Victor asked after a long pause.

_Still deferring to him, I see. Will you ask for his opinion on everything?_

Yakov was used to having his opinion challenged by his students, but most of the time they accepted it without question, trusting him to know what was best. They certainly never treated it like a topic for debate. He did his best to stifle his rage. Yuuri knew very little about figure skating, yes, but he was also the one who’d gotten Victor here.

Yuuri must’ve guessed what was going through Yakov’s mind because he replied with, “Yakov is your coach now, Victor, and I think he knows best.”

Victor’s face fell. “Yes, of course, but I wanted to know your opinion.”

“I trust Yakov to give you good advice,” Yuuri insisted.

Victor turned away and fidgeted.

Yuuri pulled Victor close and pressed their foreheads together. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

They stood together in silence for several minutes and Yakov turned away, feeling like an intruder.

Finally they let each other go and Yuuri spoke to Yakov while still holding Victor by the hands. “I won’t be able to come here all the time. I’m going to get a job and work during the days, but I will come here in the evenings.” The words had been intended for both of them, Yakov was certain of it even though Yuuri watched him as he spoke.

“I will wait for you,” Victor promised.

“Is this wise?” The words were out of Yakov’s mouth before he had time to properly consider them.

Both of them rewarded this question with looks of surprise.

“I mean – you will be tired after work. Wouldn’t you rather rest?” He felt foolish saying those words, but they had to be said.

“I’m not tired after work,” Yuuri insisted. “We did this before and I’m sure we can do it again.”

Yakov didn’t argue with this. He saw the way Yuuri looked at Victor as he said those words and understood. Yuuri was prepared to do anything to make Victor happy and there was no way of arguing with him. He nodded and watched Victor go back out onto the ice.

Victor had changed since the days when Yakov had been his coach. He used to be confident and rebellious. Yakov remembered all too well the days when every word he’d said had been challenged. The skater before him was a mere shadow of that man. Years of losing competitions knocked the arrogance out of him and Yakov soon realized that Victor deferred to Yuuri’s opinion for the simple reason that he no longer trusted his own.

That day left a heavy impression on him and he came home feeling as if he was the one who’d watched his dream slip away.

He sat at dinner with a frown on his face, which earned him a stern look and a few sharp words from Lilia, his wife.

“What is that frown for?” she demanded. “You promised me that you wouldn’t bring your bad moods home.”

Yakov apologized and did his best to look as if he was thinking about something pleasant. He slid a hand over the table cloth, smoothing it out absent-mindedly.

“Well?” Lilia asked, setting her fork down on her plate. “What is it?”

“It’s Victor,” Yakov admitted with a heavy sigh. “I decided to coach him again.”

“And what has he done this time?” she asked in a resigned tone of voice. For a moment he thought he caught her looking in the direction of the cabinet where they kept all their alcohol. She raised a hand to her temple and he could already hear the next words she would say.

“I was watching him at practice today and I couldn’t help thinking how hard it must’ve been for him to watch his dream slip away year after year,” he said, lowering his eyes down to his plate.

Lilia pursed her lips. “You’re not blaming yourself for this, are you? I thought we’d already been through all this and you agreed with me that it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes,” Yakov sighed. “I’m not saying anything about whose fault it is. I’m just trying to imagine what it must be like.”

For a while she was silent, then in a lower and more gentle voice she said, “When I was small, I wanted to be a prima ballerina more than anything. I worked night and day for it. One day my friend became the prima ballerina. I was so sure they only picked her because she was better liked than I was. That day was the worst of my life. When I ought to have been happy for my friend, I sat locked up in my room, lost in horrible thoughts. I don’t know where I’d be now, if the teacher hadn’t found me and given me a good talking to.”

Yakov said nothing to this. He couldn’t imagine his wife doing anything other than ballet.

“It’s easy to let your dream slip away when you can’t decide what your dream is exactly,” Lilia declared coldly.

Yakov didn’t argue. His many years as coach taught him that there was no such thing as a miracle. People needed talent and they needed to work hard to achieve success. You couldn’t become an Olympic gold medalist overnight. The best you could hope for was that all your hard work would pay off.

They said no more on the subject and switched instead to a different topic entirely, but Yakov’s mind persisted in returning to thoughts about Victor and what might have been.

St. Petersburg – or parts of it, at least – settled down to sleep.

 

There was always something interesting happening in the northern capital. No matter what time of year it was, there was always something – a ballet, a play, a concert and more than one a day at that. Big posters lined the streets, bright advertisements for all those shows and more.

The day before Yuuri and Victor were to fly out to the Grand Prix Final, a new poster appeared in the streets.

Victor and Yuuri decided to take that morning off and, for the first time since their arrival in St. Petersburg, they ventured down to the heart of the city with Mr. Nikiforov as their guide.

It was a cold day. A biting wind blew down the streets and a hint of snow tumbled from the grey clouds overhead, but still the buildings that lined the streets were breathtakingly beautiful.

Mr. Nikiforov walked ahead of the two men, making for a road that passed under a big arch, talking excitedly about the Winter Palace, but Yuuri and Victor weren’t listening. They were walking arm in arm, exchanging looks and delighted remarks about their surroundings.

Yuuri came to a sudden halt, forcing Victor to stop as well. “Oh my god…” Yuuri whispered with a horrified look on his face.

Victor followed his line of sight and his eye fell on a big poster that showed Yuuri in deep red lipstick and a lace bralette to match. The poster showed him all the way down to his lower stomach. There were no straps, no bits of fabric to suggest that he was wearing any underwear, but there was a matching pair in the hand he held to his heart. His other one was raised to his face, a finger pressed to his lips.

“Victor’s Secret comes to Russia,” the caption read.

Yuuri’s face turned deep red. “I didn’t think….” he stammered out. “I thought this would be in magazines, not on posters in the street.”

Victor tilted his head to the side. “It’s a very good photo of you.” He pulled his phone out. “Do you mind if I take a photo? Maybe –”

“There you two are!” Mr. Nikiforov exclaimed, walking back to them. “For a moment I thought I lost you!” His eye fell on Yuuri’s panicked expression, on Victor’s raised hand holding up his phone and then on the poster.

Several seconds of uncomfortable silence followed before Mr. Nikiforov gave them a bright smile. “Did you want me to take a photo of the both of you in front of that poster?”

“Yes, please!” both men exclaimed in unison and burst out laughing.

“We should strike a pose,” Victor suggested. “What do you think, Yuuri?”

“Let’s make a heart with our hands,” he suggested.

“Perfect!”

They held out a hand each, forming the shape of half a heart with their fingers. Yuuri closed one eye playfully while Victor’s face spread in a big smile.

Mr. Nikiforov spent several minutes trying to find the perfect spot from which to take the photo and hit the button with a triumphant expression.

Five minutes later Victor posted the photo with the caption “Sending all our love from Russia”. Ten minutes later the charge in his phone ran out and he forgot all about his post.

Evening fell over the city and the three of them returned home to finish packing for their trip.

As soon as they stepped into the apartment Yuuri’s phone rang, surprising him.

“Who is it?” Victor asked, helping Yuuri out of his coat.

“Thank you.” They exchanged a brief tender look and Yuuri pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It’s Phichit.”

“I wonder what he wants.”

“I guess we’re about to find out.’ Yuuri took the call and raised the phone to his ear.

“From Russia with love, right?” Phichit’s voice sounded loud and clear, followed by his tinkling laughter.

“Sorry?”

Laughter followed and Phichit said, “I’m referring to your photo.”

“Photo?” Yuuri gave Victor a puzzled look. “What photo?”

“Oh!” Victor pulled out his phone, remembered that his battery had died and rushed off to find his charger. “Hang on!”

Yuuri waited for Victor, wondering if there was an inside joke between Phichit and Victor he hadn’t heard about.

At last Victor held out his phone, demonstrating the photo he’d posted. “Look at how many comments we got!”

Yuuri raised his eyes slowly and met Victor’s gaze. “You posted it?” he asked.

“Yes, I… sorry, I should’ve asked…” He turned away from Yuuri’s gaze and fidgeted.

Phichit gushed excitedly about the photo and how good it was, but Yuuri wasn’t listening. His attention was fixed on the apologetic look Victor was giving him now. He lowered his phone and took Victor’s face with one hand to give him a kiss.

Yuuri closed his eyes, drinking in this moment of closeness when it was just the two of them and no one else.

“Did you enjoy your trip to the city?” Mrs. Nikiforov asked, walking over to where they stood and then making a soft exclamation of surprise. “Oh! Sorry, I…”

Yuuri pulled away from the kiss and beamed at her. “We did! St. Petersburg is very beautiful!”

She rejoiced at this as if she was the one who had built the city.

“Hello?” a voice called out, startling all of them. “Hello? Earth to beautiful St. Petersburg!”

“Where is that voice coming from?” Mrs. Nikiforov asked, casting worried looks about her.

Yuuri remembered about his phone and coloured. “Ah! Phichit!” he exclaimed, nearly dropping his phone. “Phichit! I’m so sorry!”

“Love over work, right?” Phichit suggested. At the sound of those words, Yuuri reached out to take Victor’s hand.

“Sorry, what were we talking about earlier?” Yuuri asked.

Victor stepped closer and their shoulders brushed against each other.

“I called to ask how our figure skating model was doing,” Phichit told him and Yuuri remembered about the promise Victor had made to model for _Victor’s Secret_.

There simply hadn’t been enough time before they left, but Yuuri doubted whether there would ever be enough time.

“In fact,” Phichit went on, “I’m going over to join you in a few days to see for myself the beauty of St. Petersburg and all that.”

Yuuri felt Victor place his hand gently on his back. “We’re flying to the Final tomorrow,” he told Phichit.

“I know, but when you return you’ll have a new boss.”

“You mean you’re… you’re transferring here?” Yuuri asked in disbelief. His head was spinning. It was just too much to take in all at once.

“I am. What’s it like in Russia? Should I buy more winter clothes?” Phichit’s tone made it hard to tell if he was serious or joking, but Yuuri knew him well enough to know that the answer lay somewhere in between.

Victor caught Yuuri’s eye and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

Yuuri thought about Victor coming in for a photoshoot. He imagined the two of them getting the dressing room all to themselves while the staff ran around setting stuff up and his mind flooded with images of the fantasy he’d had.

He felt an ache in his body. He wanted Victor with every fibre of his being, but he was terrified more than anything that he’d end up in the same situation again, that Victor would try to cater to his every whim with no regard for his own wishes.

_Why is this so hard?_

He hardly knew what he said to Phichit or how they said goodbye, all he knew was that he wanted to be alone with Victor.

But there was dinner to eat and suitcases to pack.

Victor’s parents were trying their hardest to help, not realizing that they were merely getting in the way. Yuuri had no choice but to wait for the right moment.

Their dinner eaten and their suitcases packed, Yuuri and Victor retired for the night. As always, Yuuri lay down first and opened his arms to invited Victor to join him.

Victor slipped in under the blanket, facing Yuuri this time. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep,” he admitted in a whisper. “I keep thinking that I didn’t practice enough, that I’ll go out in front of the judges and make a mistake and let you all down. Yakov will regret taking me as his pupil again and you will regret coming all this way for nothing.”

Yuuri rubbed Victor’s back. “How can I regret coming here? I can’t regret this – being here with you made me very happy. I never dreamed I’d see something as beautiful as St. Petersburg. Your parents are the nicest people I’ve ever met and I like working here, actually.” This last part even surprised Yuuri, but – as it turned out – coming from a big name company outside the country brought with it certain privileges.

Victor sighed.

“Your parents are happy you’re here,” Yuuri went on, his mind full of the many times he’d caught one of them regarding Victor with an expression of pure happiness.

“I’ve been nothing but a disappointment,” Victor said with another sigh.

Yuuri closed his eyes. “They don’t see you like that. They’re proud of you no matter what you do. You’re their son and they’re willing to do anything to make you happy.” _I’m willing to do anything to make you happy,_ he suddenly thought, his heart hammering fast. “To them – you’re their son no matter what happens.”

Victor shuddered, but remained silent.

“They love you,” Yuuri added.

“I love them too.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to say to that so he lay there and waited for sleep to come.

 

That year the Final was set to take place in Spain. The Russian figure skating team took the same flight. This time the airport reception waiting for them was bigger than anything Yuuri had ever seen before and he attributed it to the fact that this time both Yuri Plisetsky’s and Victor’s fans showed up.

Again Victor handed out autographs, shook hands with people and posed for photos. Yuuri watched from the sidelines with Yakov.

Someone slipped free of the crowd and ran towards Yuuri.

Victor turned around and called out to him in panic. Yuuri took a step back, terrified of what the fan might want. To his surprise, Yakov moved in front of him, shielding him with his body.

“Can I get your autograph, please?” the fan gasped out, holding out a pen and a little book. “I’m a big fan!”

Yuuri realized with a shock that this was addressed to him. He slipped around Yakov so that the coach wouldn’t get between him and the fan. “Yes, of course…” he stammered out and did his best to sign as nicely as possible.

“Oh my god! It’s Yuuri!” the crowd screamed and ran for him, Victor and the Russian Yuri entirely forgotten.

Yuuri trembled in fear and was about to make a run for it when Yakov stepped before him once more and gave the crowd a stern look. “What is all this, then?” he demanded.

The fans came to an abrupt halt, running into each other and knocking several people off their feet. Chaos followed and the skaters and their coaches escaped under cover of all the confusion.

The sky over Barcelona was sprinkled with stars without a single cloud in sight.

After sleep and several hours of practice Victor and Yuuri discovered that they had some time all to themselves.

“What do you want to do?” Yuuri asked, leaning against one of the lockers in the change room as Victor tied his shoelaces.

“I don’t  know,” he admitted, sitting up. “Shouldn’t you decide?”

“No, no,” Yuuri argued, placing a hand on Victor’s arm. “You should be the one to decide. You made it to the Final, so this will be your reward.”

Victor got up and adjusted his shirt. “I… I would love to take you somewhere nice, but I don’t have enough money.” Was he misunderstanding Yuuri on purpose?

Yuuri took his hand. “It doesn’t cost anything to go for a walk together.”

A faint smile appeared on Victor’s face and he nodded.

Yuuri wanted the evening to be solely theirs. He wanted to wonder the city while holding Victor’s hand. He wanted to discover a hidden corner of the city and to exchange a kiss with Victor there, away from prying eyes. He wanted it to be their little secret.

But he could see that Victor’s thoughts were elsewhere. Victor worried and fretted. His mind was out on the ice before the audience. He was already failing everyone and he wanted to go train more to have a chance to do better. Yuuri could barely keep him from going back to the rink.

“You need to rest,” Yuuri insisted and tried to think of a way he could do that that didn’t involve going back to their hotel room.

They walked down a street of charming cafés, but each time Yuuri risked a glance at the menus posted outside he saw just how expensive they all were.

Yuuri bit his lip in frustration. Could they go and just order a drink? People did that, right? He was prepared to go try it when Victor’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“I’m sorry. Let’s go back. I’m just ruining your evening.”

“You’re not!” Yuuri protested, but he saw the exhaustion and fatigue on Victor’s face and relented.

The night, chilly as it was, was magical. The stars shone in the sky, music filled the air. It was a night fit for a date, but no one they would have.

Again Yuuri’s mind filled with doubt. Was he forcing it too much? Was Victor really not interested?

They returned to the hotel and went up in the elevator. Yuuri, unable to resist any longer, leaned in and pressed his lips against Victor’s.

Victor put an arm around him and held him close. In response Yuuri pushed Victor against the wall of the elevator and held him there. The world around them started to spin. Somewhere far off the elevator dinged to announce its arrival, but Yuuri didn’t care. He wanted to hold on to Victor forever.

Victor broke the kiss this time. “We… uh… we’re here…” he stammered out.

Yuuri stepped away and took his hand to lead him out of the elevator.

Despite everything, Victor let his hand go when they reached their room.

 

Victor was terrified. He didn’t want the next day to come and at the same time he wanted it to be over already. Knowing very well that sleep would be impossible, he went to take a shower.

The water poured down over him and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of it sliding down his skin. He thought about their kiss in the elevator and how Yuuri had pressed his whole body against Victor’s.

Why was Yuuri dating him? But, more importantly, what did Yuuri want?

He finished his shower, dried himself off and pulled on his pajama.

As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, his eye fell on the bed where Yuuri lay on his side. The boy was in the dark red lingerie from the ad with dark red lipstick to match. One hand rested on his thigh while the other one was pressed to his heart.

He beckoned Victor over with his finger and Victor’s legs obeyed without any input from his brain. He sat down on the bed, his eyes sweeping over Yuuri.

“My dear Bunny,” Yuuri breathed out, “do you think you can get that gold medal for me?”

Victor trembled. He wished he could boldly say yes, but his mind was filled with so much doubt. Could he? Would he?

Yuuri lowered himself onto his back. His hands slid down his hips. His fingers caught the straps of his underwear and he pulled it down. Victor watched as if he was hypnotized as the underwear slid down to the boy’s knees and then, with a quick movement, Yuuri pulled it off completely.

“If you win that medal for me,” Yuuri whispered, holding the underwear to his heart, “I’ll give you this.”

Victor placed his hand over Yuuri’s and pulled the underwear close so he could press it to his lips. “I’ll do my best,” he whispered, his eyes buried in Yuuri’s.

Yuuri breathed out and another shudder passed over Victor’s body. Yuuri caressed the side of Victor’s face with his hand, “Sleep,” he whispered.

Yuuri left the underwear between them and slid his hands down Victor’s cheeks, over his neck and to his shoulders. They came to rest on Victor’s back.

They breathed together, the slow steady rhythm helping Victor relax.

He felt his consciousness slipping away, as if he was slowly sinking into a dark pool. He was so tired.

 

Yuuri held on to Victor, feeling safe and comfortable at the skater’s side. He was glad he’d thought to take what he’d worn for that ad. Victor’s reaction had really pleased him.

 _I want you to keep looking at me like that,_ he thought, burying his face in Victor’s shoulder.

He needed to get up and take a shower, but he was afraid of waking Victor up. Instead, he listened to Victor’s breathing.

Outside the cold wind found pipes and other openings to howl in. Inside, it was warm and very comfortable. Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s shoulder and shifted a little closer.

 

Yuuri woke up the following morning to find Victor sitting on the edge of the bed with a tray of food between them.

Yuuri turned onto his side and smiled sleepily up at Victor, suddenly aware that all he had on was a lace top that did a poor job of covering his chest. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Victor said with a note of reverence in his voice. “I brought you breakfast.”

 _He’s doing it again,_ Yuuri thought warily. “Thank you.” He sat up. “What time is it?”

“8:15,” Victor answered after consulting his watch.

Yuuri took in the tray. It really was loaded with food. It had all kinds of breakfast food from pancakes to cut up fruit, as if Victor couldn’t decide what to give Yuuri and settled for a bit of everything. “Where did you get all this?”

“I managed to convince the hotel staff that we’re on our honeymoon,” Victor confessed, looking guilty about this lie.

Yuuri froze. He blushed deeply as he stared into Victor’s open face.

“Sorry, I couldn’t think of anything else,” Victor apologized looking away. “I hope you don’t mind this little lie.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll go start practicing now.”

“What?” Yuuri exclaimed. “Aren’t you going to have breakfast with me?”

“I already ate,” Victor insisted, avoiding Yuuri’s eye. “And I need more practice.”

To Yuuri’s great astonishment, Victor gave him a hasty goodbye and left the hotel room before he could think of anything else to say.

Yuuri stared after him in shock. He couldn’t believe Victor had run off, leaving him alone and half-naked on the bed. And then it hit him: he was half-naked right before a competition. Victor ran off before they could get carried away.

Yuuri covered his face with his hands. “How could I have been so selfish?” he moaned.

When he next saw Victor, the man was out on the ice, jumping one quad flip after another. Yuuri joined Yakov at the boards. The coach barely spared him a glance.

“Where were you?” he grumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Sorry,” Yuuri said in his meekest tone, “I overslept.”

“Jetlag again?” Yakov asked and Yuuri wondered if the coach believed him.

“Yes,” Yuuri lied. “How is he?” he asked after a short pause.

Yakov considered his answer for a few minutes. “He’s too nervous. That’s not good.”

“I know,” Yuuri whispered and bit his lips in frustration. What was he to do? What could anyone do in a situation like this?

 _Please, Victor,_ he prayed mentally. _You can do this, I know you can._

Time. He was running out of time again. Practice was over and now he had to wait for the competition to officially start. He stood next to Yuuri as the host introduced the Final. Yuuri put his arms around Victor and held on to him.

Just a little more time, please. But time marched mercilessly onwards.

He was invited out onto the ice to do the warmup and passed through it in a kind of daze, as if it was nothing more than a dream.

He jumped the quad flip without thinking this time and only realized what he was doing as he came down back on the ice. For a brief moment his heart filled with terror as he forgot how to land, but his body moved for him and he raised his arms gracefully to applause from the audience

“Victor!” someone screamed.

This wasn’t really happening. It was just a dream. Any minute now he would wake up alone in his apartment in America. He shuddered and wondered what he was supposed to do next.

The warmup ended.

_I’m not ready!_

He stepped off the ice and Yuuri was at his side right away. “Victor? You’ve gone pale. Are you alright?”

“I can’t do it,” he whispered and put his hands over his face. He was going to fail all of them. He was going to disappoint his parents, his new fans, Yakov and Yuuri. He was going to disappoint Yuuri!

His head spun and the world went dark.

It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladyofthefl0wers made a beautiful banner for this fic! I didn't want to spam everyone with it every chapter, so I put it at the beginning of chapter 1. I recommend going back and taking a look. Thank you again, Ladyofthefl0wers!


	12. Bunny’s Final

Someone was holding him. That was the first real feeling Victor was conscious of before a bigger awareness kicked in. His face was pressing against someone’s shoulder. He raised his head and saw Yuuri looking at him with concern in his eyes.

For a moment, Victor couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened and then a loud cheer made him turn his head and he saw.

He was at the Grand Prix Final and, by the looks of it, Christophe Giacometti had just finished his short program, which meant that he was next.

Panic seized him. How long had he been out for?

“Victor?” Yuuri asked gently. “Do you think you can skate?”

 _I can’t,_ he thought. _I can’t even do a single jump._ His head was a mess. His legs ached. He wasn’t sure he could even remember what his routine was, or the music he’d picked for it.

There was worry and pain in Yuuri’s eyes, but what was worse – there was hope. Yuuri was still hoping Victor would go out on the ice and win.

 _I’m letting him down,_ he thought, _and he doesn’t even know it._

He could picture it very well: him refusing to go out, getting disqualified for it and then going home in shame.

He nodded.

“If you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to push yourself,” Yuuri told him.

Victor stepped out onto the ice. If only he’d had such an excuse! But he didn’t. All he could say was that he was weak and not worth anyone’s time. He stood at the boards with his shoulders hunched.

Yakov was talking him through his routine, but all he could see were Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri’s eyes, which would fill with tears when he failed. Yuuri’s eyes, which would never have that spark of fascination in them if he ended up in sixth place.

Victor put his forehead against Yuuri’s. “Keep your eyes on me,” he whispered.

“Next on the ice – Victor Nikiforov!”

He skated backwards and blew Yuuri a kiss.

Yuuri blew him one in return.

He had no idea how the other skaters were doing or how many points he needed to be ahead of them, but in that moment none of that mattered.

He waited for the music to start and really listened to it this time. He remembered all too well how he’d picked out this song.

 

_He sat in the back of a shop after another breakup and wept into his knees. His break was almost over and any minute now his manager would come in and yell at him for slacking off, but Victor didn’t care._

_It was quiet back here, apart from his soft sobbing and the warbling of the store’s music over the speakers and then, after a short instrumental intro, he heard it…_

 

_Love of my life, you’ve hurt me._

_You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me._

_Love of my life, can’t you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back;_

_Don’t take it away from me, because you don't know_

_What it means to me._

How many heartbreaks had he struggled through? How many times did he think that it was all over, that he would die from the pain alone? How many times had he told himself that this was it and that he would never let anyone into his heart ever again, only to break his own promise?

 _“Love of my life,”_ the singer lamented and Victor’s eye picked Yuuri out in the crowd. He stood with his hands clasped tightly.

 _You found me,_ Victor thought. _It might seem like it was the other way around, but in reality you’re the one who found me and pulled me out of this._

He remembered hearing Yuuri cry and his heart tightened in his chest. The mere memory hurt him more than all the heartaches he’d suffered.

The image was there before his eyes now – Yuuri standing against the door of his toilet stall and weeping with his hands over his face.

He jumped the quad salchow and landed.

He couldn’t hear if the audience was applauding him or not, all he could hear was the faint sound of Yuuri’s sobs. The boy had tried to hide his pain from the rest of the world, having no one to confide it to.

And then he remembered watching the door open and coming face to face with Yuuri for the first time.

_His cheeks glistened with tears. His lips trembled._

Victor held his hands to his heart and entered the final spin, raising his arms over his head as the music reached the end.

It was over. It was done.

He froze, as if he was afraid to move. A single tear rolled down his cheek and fell onto the ice.

A loud noise filled his ears, crashing round him like waves hitting a rocky shore. He raised his head and saw stands full of people. Who were they? What were they doing here?

He remembered about the Final and that he’d been skating and realized with a shock that he had no memory of how he’d skated.

Had he made any mistakes?

He turned around and again his eye picked out Yuuri from the millions of faces. The man stood at Yakov’s side, clapping with tears in his eyes.

Had he really been that terrible?

He skated towards the kiss and cry, doing his best to smile, but still his tears came.

Before him Yuuri wept, wiping his face with the back of his hand and in his mind Yuuri wept, looking helpless and deeply wounded.

“Victor, that was… that was amazing!” He put his arms around Victor and clutched him close. “I’ll never let anyone break your heart again,” he whispered into Victor’s ear.

“And I will look after yours,” Victor promised in return.

Yuuri took his face and pressed his lips against Victor’s.

Victor’s heart jumped what felt like the quad flip in his chest.

Yuuri released him and led him gently to the kiss and cry where Yakov sat waiting for them.

To Victor’s great surprise, there was no anger on the old coach’s face. Perhaps, he had given up on Victor.

Victor sat down between him and Yuuri and waited.

Yuuri gripped his hand and held it tightly.

The scoreboard changed and Victor stared at the numbers, unable to understand what they meant.

“Unbelievable! 110.5 points! Victor Nikiforov broke the world record!”

The audience erupted in cheers and applause. Screams filled the arena, as if they had all been awarded the world record.

World. Record. The words bounced around in his head, making no sense whatsoever, as if they were in another language.

World.

Record.

Yuuri got up, pulled Victor up to his feet and raised his hand. The audience screamed even louder.

World record!

“Victor,” Yuuri turned to look into his face with eyes that were still wet from tears, “you did it!”

World record.

That wasn’t it. There was still the free skate, wasn’t there?

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Victor said and, on a whim, picked Yuuri up and held him up. He’d never held someone before and it was a lot harder than it looked, but it was Yuuri and he was willing to endure anything for his sake.

“Victor! What are you doing?” Yuuri threw his arms around Victor’s neck and laughed.

He joined in and heard Yakov’s laughter from somewhere beside him.

His legs and arms complained, but he wanted to keep holding on to Yuuri. He wanted this moment to go on forever. But Yuuri must’ve realized the strain he was under, because he slid out of Victor’s arms and smiled at him.

“Come on,” he took Victor by the arm and led him away.

They found a spot to watch the rest of the competition from, leaving Yakov behind to wait for his other pupil.

When Yuri went out on the ice, Victor saw the determination burning in his eyes and he knew that the skater would beat him. Yuri raised an arm for every jump, earning extra points for every single one. He landed a quad flip of his own, the audience’s great shock and amazement.

It came as no surprise when Yuri broke the record just set by Victor.

The audience cheered and celebrated. They waved banners with his name and shouted words of admiration.

Victor lowered his head sadly. How quickly they switched sides! For a moment he believed, _truly believed_ , that they rejoiced for him, that they actually sympathized with all his dreams.

 _They will cheer for the winner, no matter who it is,_ he thought sadly.

He felt someone put an arm around him and raised his head to see Yuuri looking at him. “I’ve very proud of you,” he whispered, “and I’m sure that your parents are too. I know it’s not the same, but –”

“That’s all that matters,” Victor whispered back. He closed his eyes and let the meaning of those words sink in. It _was_ all that mattered.

 

They returned late to their hotel room. The day had ended with Victor in second place after the short program and, yet, Victor looked as if he’d ended up in last place.

Yuuri stood at his side in the elevator and bit his lip nervously. He kept throwing anxious glances at Victor, trying to work up the courage for a request. He wasn’t sure how he’d react after that morning.

Finally they reached their floor and Yuuri made his choice.

“Victor,” he said, taking the man’s hand, “will you take a bath with me?” His cheeks reddened as Victor turned his head to give him a look of incomprehension. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he offered.

Victor gave him a reassuring smile. “No, I think it sounds like a good idea.”

 _Do you really?_ Yuuri agonized. Again, he doubted Victor had any feelings for him. Did Victor want to be his boyfriend? Or was he just going along with what Yuuri wanted?

Victor opened the door to their room and Yuuri made for the bathroom to turn the water on. He fiddled with the taps until he got the temperature of the water just right.

Once the bathtub was full, Yuuri poked his head out of the bathroom.

Victor sat on the bed, looking exhausted, but he raised his head a moment later, spotted Yuuri and his face spread in a smile. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Yuuri walked over to Victor and put his arms around him. “Let me help you out of those clothes,” he whispered, standing behind Victor and letting his fingers trail up Victor’s chest. He reverted to flirting without thinking. He only hoped that Victor would enjoy it, even if he didn’t respond in the way that Yuuri wanted.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered. “I…it’s ok. I can do it myself.”

Yuuri suppressed the urge to slide his hands down further and instead drummed his fingers playfully over Victor’s chest. “You’re a big boy, I know,” his voice was low and he heard the way Victor’s breath caught as Yuuri pressed his pelvis against Victor’s backside, “but I thought we’d both enjoy this much more.”

Victor opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Yuuri held his breath, waiting for Victor to say no. _What do you want, Victor? I need to know. Do you want me as much as I want you, or should I drop all hope and learn to accept your friendship?_

“Undress me,” Victor whispered hoarsely and Yuuri felt something like hope flutter in his chest. Maybe Victor really wanted him after all.

He let his hands trail down and linger over Victor’s pants before sliding further down, feeling around for a zipper or buttons. He felt Victor’s body react to his touch.

“Yuuri…” he moaned.

“I thought I’d have to unzip you,” Yuuri said in a low voice, “but I see that I’ll just have to settle for the old-fashioned approach.” He stepped away and yanked Victor’s pants down, lowering himself to drag them down all the way to the floor.

He raised his head. He was down on his knees before Victor who were nothing but a shirt and underwear.

Victor dragged his shirt off and beamed at Yuuri. The innocent smile disarmed Yuuri and he rose to his feet in some confusion.

“Here,” Victor said, very carefully removing his underwear. “Do you want me to help you with yours?” he offered.

Yuuri nodded numbly and did his best to suppress his blushing as Victor undressed him. Victor took great care to not hurt him and it only made Yuuri’s heart beat faster.

Once Yuuri was free of his clothes, they regarded each other in silence for several moments. Yuuri became very conscious of the bed in their room. He imagined pushing Victor onto it and climbing over him.

Instead, he took Victor’s hand and led him to the bathtub he’d prepared for them.

Victor hesitated, but Yuuri didn’t stop to think. He climbed into the bathtub and spread his legs. “Will you join me?”

Victor nodded and climbed carefully in after Yuuri. They had to shift a little before they could find a comfortable position for the both of them. Victor fit snuggly between Yuuri’s legs and Yuuri pulled him back so that Victor’s head could rest on his shoulder.

 _I could sit forever like this,_ Yuuri thought and scooped up water with both hands to pour it over Victor’s shoulders.

Victor sat tensed and Yuuri massaged his shoulders in an attempt to get him to relax.

Finally Victor broke the silence, “I can’t get you that gold medal. I’m sorry. Yuri – I mean the Russian Yuri – is better than I am. I’ve let you down, I’m sorry.” He put his hands over his face and shuddered.

“There’s no need to apologize Yuuri whispered and kissed the skin behind Victor’s ear.

His heart ached and he knew then that if Victor asked for something in that moment, he would’ve done everything in his power to give it to him, no matter what it was.

 _I keep hoping you will flirt with me. I want you to turn around and kiss me, or have sex with me in the bathtub. I want you to tell me you need me, but you keep thinking about that gold medal._ He suppressed a sigh and did his best to caress Victor’s face as if nothing was wrong.

He could feel his heart breaking in his chest. _I love you. Oh god, how did I not see it before? How could I be so blind when every single bit of me aches for you? I love you and I don’t think that you love me back._

“You can use the bathroom first,” Victor said, breaking gently out of Yuuri’s hold and climbing out of the bathtub.

Yuuri watched numbly as Victor dried himself and left the bathroom, stopping only to close the door behind him.

Yuuri buried his face in his hands and did his best to cry as soundlessly as possible. He’d made a mistake: Victor didn’t care for him after all.

Only when he’d finished washing and brushing his teeth did the tears stop. He washed his face with cold water and studied his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were still a little red, but may it wasn’t too noticeable.

Yuuri stepped out of the bathroom with his eyes lowered. “Your turn,” he told Victor and made for the bed.

He expected himself to toss and turn all night long, but – to his surprise – as soon as he lay down exhaustion took him and he dropped into a dreamless sleep.

 

He woke up, feeling someone’s arms around him. Someone held him close. He felt warm and safe. He sighed and opened his eyes. Victor’s hands were around him. The realization made it hard not to weep.

Then Yuuri imagined the skater coming out of the bathroom, finding Yuuri asleep and lying down next to him as he must’ve done the night before. It must’ve been very lonely.

Yuuri raised Victor’s hands to his face and pressed his lips first to one and then to the other. He had to be strong and hold his tears back.

 _I will buy my feelings for you,_ he decided. _I will bury them so deeply that you will never realize they’re there._

He closed his eyes and felt himself drift away once more as he pressed Victor’s hands to his chest.

 

The free skate attracted more interest than the short program. After hearing about the two world records, many people wanted to know who would win the Grand Prix Final. Bets were placed on different outcomes, people scrambled to get their hands on tickets last minute and when the finalists went out on the ice they were greeted by stands packed with excited fans.

Yuuri stood at the boards with Yakov and kept his eyes fixed on Victor.

Breakfast that morning had been hard. Yuuri couldn’t think of a single thing to say and had spent the time studying Victor’s face as if they were about to be separated for at least a week.

It had been so hard to wake up next to Victor. It was a pleasure he needed to learn to let go of. But when? He would still have to share a bed with Victor when they returned to St. Petersburg.

 _Just a little bit more,_ he told himself. _Just a little. I won’t let myself get used to this, of course, but…_

But it felt so right.

They introduced Victor to the audience and he jumped the quad flip. The audience screamed. He went around the rink, passing by Yuuri.

Unable to help himself, Yuuri blew him a kiss. By an unfortunate coincidence, Victor looked away right before and missed it.

Yuuri’s heart sank in his chest. It was a sign. They weren’t meant to be.

 

Victor was oddly calm before his free skate. He listened to Yakov’s words eagerly, hungry for even the smallest bit of an edge he could get.

He’d woken up that morning to find Yuuri clutching his hands tightly and he’d thought about the gold medal again. He had to keep his word to Yuuri. He had to bring him the gold medal. He wasn’t sure what Yuuri would do in response, but somewhere deep inside he was dying to find out.

It was almost his turn now. He turned away form Yakov and looked into Yuuri’s face directly. The boy was very pale and was it Victor’s imagination, or were his eyes red?

He reached out and brushed Yuuri’s hair out of his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He took Yuuri’s face with both hands, just barely touching him as if Yuuri’s head was made of something very fragile.

Their lips met and Victor held on. He broke the kiss and grinned, “For inspiration,” he whispered.

The audience screamed louder than ever.

He skated away, going backwards so he could keep his eyes on Yuuri and blow him another kiss.

The routine was meant to be happy and light-hearted, but for some reason he couldn’t stop thinking about the sadness in Yuuri’s eyes. Something was wrong. Did it trouble him that much that Victor said that he wouldn’t be able to get the gold medal for him?

 He tried as hard as he could and knew that his performance suffered as a result. He wanted that gold medal too, but he had to admit the truth – Yuri was simply better than he was.

His thoughts circled back to Yuuri. He turned to tell himself that Yuuri wanted to see him win, but all he could think about was the sadness in Yuuri’s eyes. It had been there since the previous night. Had he hurt Yuuri in some way?

He jumped the quad flip, but it felt as if the jump had happened somewhere else, somewhere far away. The audience’s applause was also in that other world.

Then, with a mental jolt, he realized that his routine was almost done and that he’d spent most of it thinking about something else. There was only the final spin left. It was over.

A gasp went up from the crowd and for a brief moment Victor couldn’t understand what had happened. His blood ran cold. He’d stumbled and only a quick movement had kept him from falling flat on the ice. He entered the spin filled with an overwhelming fear, his heart pounding in his chest as his music ended.

He held the final pose and crumbled to his knees.

How could he have stumbled? There hadn’t been anything there for him to stumble over! He was supposed to simply glide over the ice as his routine came to an end and he’d messed it up.

He felt the tears rise to his eyes.

“Victor!” someone screamed.

His head snapped up.

“Victor! Victor!” the audience chanted.

His eye fell on Yuuri who chanted with them, once again coming to Victor’s rescue.

He got up and crossed the ice, telling himself that he needed to get his marks and that by now he ought to be used to disappointing everyone. Still it was hard to meet Yuuri’s eye and, so, he sat in the kiss and cry with his head lowered, terrified of the marks he would get.

A roar went up from the audience and he raised his head. He saw his name, followed by a bunch of numbers and then a little “1” at the very end.

Victor gasped. No, it couldn’t be. It was a mistake. It had to be.

Yuuri enveloped Victor in a hug and clung on tightly. “I’m very proud of you!” he whispered. His eyes were glowing with admiration.

_I wish you would always look at me like that._

“Next on the ice – Yuri Plisetsky!” The announcement brought Victor back to the present, cutting cruelly into his thoughts.

Yuuri took him gently by the arm and led him somewhere they could watch the skating from.

The Russian Yuri skated with the same fierce energy as before, but when he got to the first jump he fumbled the landing and nearly fell.

The audience let out a disappointed groan.

A combination jump followed. Yuri executed it perfectly, but when he jumped again he nearly lost his balance and narrowly avoided falling.

Victor watched in astonishment.

He felt Yuuri take his hand and clutch it tightly. “Do you see?” Yuuri whispered. “Everyone makes mistakes. No one is perfect.”

Victor’s heart filled with pity for the poor boy. He knew all too well how it felt to fall over and over again, wishing the routine would end, desperate to go hide somewhere far away from prying eyes.

He remembered the way the shame burned inside him and made it difficult to go out on the ice again, how it hurt to stand alongside the other figure skaters, how he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was nothing more than a fraud.

The routine ended and Yuri dropped to his knees with tears in his eyes. Victor couldn’t shake the feeling that he was looking at a younger version of himself.

“Yuri! Yuri!” The audience chanted and Yuri raised his head to stare at them in amazement. Then, with a scoff, he made for the kiss and cry.

Yuri was stronger than him, Victor decided, clutching his hands tightly.

As he waited for Yuri’s marks, he couldn’t help thinking about the gold medal. He imagined the words he would say when he gave it to Yuuri.

 

_“Here it is, as promised,” Victor said, holding it out to Yuuri. “But I know it’s not enough. You deserve a hundred gold medals, even more. If I had that man I would melt the gold to make a statue of you. And even that wouldn’t be enough to thank you.”_

_“So,” Yuuri said with a coy smile, “you’d melt all the gold, but what would you do with all those ribbons?” He raised an eyebrow._

_Victor blushed and stammered out something incoherent in reply._

“And the judges are posting their scores!” the announcer’s voice boomed, intruding on Victor’s thoughts.

Victor stared at the screen, his heart beating fast. The numbers flashed by before he could understand what they meant and then the table with the summary appeared on the screen.

_1 Yuri Plisetsky_

_2 Victor Nikiforov_

He dropped his head, unable to force himself to care about the rest of the list.

 _Second place,_ he thought wretchedly. _Of course! How could I dare hope for more? Only a miracle – No, not even a miracle could put me in first place._

“Half a point,” Yuuri whispered.

“What?” He turned his head to stare at Yuuri.

The boy smiled. “You were only half a point away from first place.”

Victor gave a heavy sigh. “That’s how it always is.”

“Don’t you see?” Yuuri exclaimed and took Victor by both hands. “You beat Yuri in the free skate. You almost beat him in the short program. Next time you can win!”

He tried to smile and act as if he agreed, but he was too used to disappointment to believe what Yuuri was trying to tell him. He’d spent his whole life letting himself down and now he’d let Yuuri down too.

Yuuri’s hands slipped around him and Yuuri gazed into his eyes. “You will win next time,” he said with a strong conviction in his voice. “Next time you will get me that gold medal.”

“Next time…” Victor repeated as if hypnotized.

Next time.

That would be the Russian Nationals.

His heart sank.

He glanced at the kiss and cry and saw that instead of rejoicing, Yuri sat with his head lowered. He sat alone, oblivious to the rejoicing and congratulating around him. The fans celebrated, but they seemed to exist in a world separate from Yuri.

Victor looked around, searching the crowd for someone who would approach Yuri and speak to him, but even Yakov had disappeared somewhere, possibly giving an interview for the press.

This was what he’d feared most: to be left standing alone on a pedestal with many gold medals around his neck and no one to share them with.

His heart tightened painfully and he turned away, unable to look at Yuri any longer. “Let’s go,” he said to Yuuri and dragged him off. He didn’t know or care where they were going as long as they were about to put as much distance between them as possible.

 

They returned to St. Petersburg late on the evening of the following day. A crowd of fans greeted them in the airport and Victor handed out autographs with the ease of someone who’s had lots of practice doing it.

Yuuri rushed to join Victor’s parents and together they waited for Victor to finish. They stood silently, as if they couldn’t have a proper reunion without Victor.

Victor went from fan to fan until, at last, he got to the edge of the crowd where his parents stood. For a moment his smile faltered and he stopped, as if he didn’t know what to do next.

They dashed over to him and threw their arms around him from two sides.

Yuuri’s face split in a grin.

“We’re so proud of you!” Mrs. Nikiforov declared. She turned her head slightly and met Yuuri’s eye. “Both of you.”

Yuuri let her pull him into the hug and laughed even as his heart trembled.

For the first time in a long while, he had the feeling of returning home. He spent the car ride listening to Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov share their latest news and nodded along, casting the occasional glance at Victor, trying to guess what was on his mind.

“– and we’ll have to decide how to celebrate Viten’ka’s birthday!” Mrs. Nikiforov exclaimed in the tones of someone ready to burst with excitement.

Yuuri stared out the window. How did Victor feel about that? How long had it been since the last time he was with his family on his birthday? Yuuri remembered about his own parents – far away on the other side of the ocean. When, for that matter, was the last time that he himself spent his birthday with his parents? He missed them terribly.

“We don’t have to!” Victor protested just as Yuuri knew he would. “Oh, yes! Yuuri, you never told me when your birthday is?”

“November 29th,” Yuuri told him.

“That was two weeks ago!” Victor exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t celebrate my birthday,” Yuuri confessed and was amazed by the amount of hurt that appeared on Victor’s face.

“Mine is in two weeks,” Victor said once he got over his shock, “do you mind if we celebrate them together?”

“Not at all.” He put his hand over Victor’s. It was so good to be together like this. Just this was enough.

Victor put an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “You don’t have to say yes,” he whispered.

Yuuri looked into his face, recognizing his own words, and grinned. “It will be an honour,” he whispered back, “Bunny.” Getting carried away as always, he raised an eyebrow.

To his surprise, Victor blushed.

Yuuri leaned against Victor’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

 

The following morning Yuuri woke up early. He lay facing Victor and stared at him for a long time, studying his features and resisting the urge to slide his finger over them.

He wasn’t a morning person, but for some reason sleep that day was impossible. He thought about Victor, about his kind parents and how comfortable it was here. They lived as one family. Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov had accepted Yuuri into their house without question. They never bothered him about his past and never asked awkward questions. It was safe here.

Yuuri closed his eyes. If only Victor returned his feelings! If only they –

What was the use? He could lie here all day long, thinking up different “what if” scenarios.

He slipped out as carefully as he could, pulling Victor’s hands off him and sat on the edge of the bed.

Victor slept on. He was really tired. At times like these, Yuuri knew, waking Victor up took a lot of effort. Not that Yuuri wanted to wake Victor – he had earned his rest.

He got up, dressed and brushed his teeth. It was Saturday morning and still early enough that both of Victor’s parents were still asleep.

Yuuri sat in the kitchen, now knowing what to do with himself. Anything he could think of doing would make a lot of noise and wake everyone up.

His eye fell on the calendar hanging on the wall and he remembered the conversation about Victor’s birthday.

He needed a good present, Yuuri decided and here was a perfect chance for him to go and find one.

He pulled on his coat, his hat and wrapped his scarf around his neck. He didn’t need to look outside to know it was very cold. He grabbed a key and a pair of gloves and crouched down to pull on a pair of winter boots.

 _I’ll be back soon,_ he promised the house silently as he threw a quick glance about himself, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

The door to the apartment was heavy and he struggled to open it in a way that wouldn’t make a lot of noise. The door swung open and he stepped out onto the landing, closing it behind him.

The key clicked in the lock and he descended the stairs, trying to guess how long he had before he was missed.

A figure stepped out of one of the dark corners to bar his way and Yuuri stopped just short of walking into him. He raised his head and recognized Victor’s ex.

At once the warm and pleasant feeling in his heart was replaced with a burning anger. “What do you want?” he demanded.

“Victor,” the ex answered simply. “Look, I know he’s handsome and hard to let go, but let’s be fair – I was his boyfriend first, so you should give him back.”

“Victor isn’t an object,” Yuuri countered coldly. “He’s a person with feelings. If he wants to go back to you, then he’ll do it himself.”

The man scoffed. “How _democratic_ of you! Listen, _little Yuuri_ ,” Yuuri shuddered at the way the man said his name, “let’s not play games. I know _what_ you are and what you do.” He pulled a battered magazine out of his pocket and opened it to show an ad for _Victor’s Secret._

Yuuri had to suppress a shudder at the thought that someone like the ex saw a picture of him in lingerie. “So?” he asked, raising his chin defiantly.

“They don’t keep ugly models, I expect,” the ex said and Yuuri saw something glint in his hand. “So why don’t you give me Victor and I’ll let you keep that pretty face of yours?”

Yuuri backed away, but the ex placed a hand over his arm and gripped his wrist tightly. He raised his other hand.

He had a knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep trying to write faster, but stuff keeps getting in the way. Last week I discovered the Grishaverse books and now I’m going through all of Leigh Bardugo’s books. I’m sorry. I tried to resist it, I really did.
> 
> The song for the short program is [Love of My Life by Queen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T73WhWTawCE).


	13. Wounds

His name was Mikhail and he knew he was the handsomest guy on the planet. He was clever (it was just that no one had discovered it yet) and he knew that the world owed him all the best it had to offer – all the money, the best job, the best house and the best spouse.

He grew up near Victor. Sometimes they hung out together, but usually he met up with boys who were much cooler than Victor.

Victor was cute, but he was tall and wiry and not really Mikhail’s type. If truth be told, Mikhail wasn’t interested in him at all.

One evening he caught the way Victor was staring at him. Well why not? He’d been curious about kissing since he watched that TV show in January about spies and here was a chance to try it out.

He knew that Victor was a figure skater, of course he did. He just didn’t care about the sport. Every time Victor raved about it, he tuned the boy out and thought about something else. Sometimes he interrupted Victor to catch a kiss.

Then he found out that Victor got to travel for his competitions. That wasn’t fair! He’d never left the country before. Now that he was Victor’s boyfriend, he had to come along. Victor loved him, didn’t he?

But Paris was boring. That city in Switzerland they visited that he couldn’t remember the name of turned out to be a big disappointment. Europe was overrated and too expensive. Travel was annoying and exhausting. There wasn’t really a point to going out to Victor, now was there?

So Mikhail dumped him.

He lost track of Victor after that. Life treated him unfairly and he didn’t get a job where he could be paid a lot to do nothing. He dated a few people, but they weren’t good enough for him.

And then Victor returned to St. Petersburg. He overheard Victor’s parents talking about his return one evening as he stood in the stairwell and smoked.

“The flight from America will be very long. The poor boy will come all exhausted,” Victor’s mother lamented.

At the sound of “America”, Mikhail turned his head. America was a land of opportunity. People went there and made it big. Russia was just too limiting. What he really needed was a change of country and Victor was the one who could give it to him.

So he persuaded Victor’s parents to take him along to meet Victor.

Victor had changed a lot since they used to date each other. He’d become handsome and now there was some other boy in his life, but he wasn’t important. Mikhail was determined to get what he wanted and that meant only one thing: Victor’s boyfriend had to disappear.

 

Yuuri glared at the ex, refusing to be intimidated. “Victor is more important than my face,” he declared, tearing free of the ex’s grip.

“Oh really? Well I supposed you _would_ say that. You’ll be singing a completely different tune when I’m done with you.” The ex stood there with a smug grin on his face, looking like the most disgusting person Yuuri had ever met. How had Victor ever dated him?

He pushed the thought aside as soon as it slipped into his mind. He thought instead of Victor and his parents sleeping peacefully several floors above him. They didn’t deserve to get involved with someone who threatened others with a knife.

“Let’s find out,” Yuuri whispered dangerously. “Do you have what it takes to cut me, I wonder?”

The man’s eyes went hard. “You have no idea,” he uttered.

He thrust forward and Yuuri caught the hand holding the knife. He was no fighter, so it was just Yuuri’s luck that neither was the ex. It was also Yuuri’s luck that he could still remember the self-defence classes he’d taken when he’d just started working as a model.

There had been too many incidents of attacks on models and, so, training at _Victor’s Secret_ included a self-defence course that lasted a whole week and that models were expected to attend every five years.

Yuuri stepped down on the ex’s foot and then kicked him between the legs.

The ex stumbled backwards. Yuuri released his hand. The knife slashed through the air, grazing Yuuri’s hand by pure chance. The ex lost his balance and tumbled backwards down the stairs.

Yuuri felt a searing pain in his palm and stared down at it. Blood trickled from the gush.

With a loud curse the ex made a grab for the railing as his feet slipped over the steps. He hit his left leg with a loud bang, winced and finally succeeded in stopping himself. He raised his head and glared up at Yuuri, “You bastard!”

He was about to charge back up the stairs, Yuuri knew it. The man was hunched over in pain, but still he gritted his teeth. If he charged back up, there was no way Yuuri would win. On the other hand, Yuuri didn’t want to toss him down the stairs, even if the man deserved it.

_I have to scare him. I need him to leave and never come back._

He raised his hand to show the ex the cut he’d made. “I forgot to mention – I like pain, so threatening me won’t work.”

The ex’s eyes widened in fear.

Yuuri stepped slowly down the stairs, doing his best to be as intimidating as possible. “That was fun. Will you cut me again?”

The ex backed away against the railing and slapped his heels against it. “You’re insane! Get away from me! Get the hell away!”

Yuuri stepped closer and let a cold smile spread over his lips. “Insane?” he whispered loudly. “Maybe if you tried it, you’ll find that you enjoy pain too.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” The man threw his hands over his ears. “You’re out of your mind!” he screamed.

“Give me your hand,” Yuuri said, reaching out to take it.

The ex gave a long piercing scream and bolted down the stairs. Yuuri stood and listened to the sound of steps, followed by a loud bang of the door.

He rolled his eyes and gave his hand a sad look. Was it better to go back up for a band aid, or should he just buy one on his way to the store? If he returned now, he doubted if he would go back out. It was just a scratch.

He ignored the stinging in his palm and kept going.

 

Victor sat in the kitchen, wondering where Yuuri could’ve possibly gone. He’d woken up alone in their bed, shivering from the cold. He waited patiently for Yuuri’s return, despite his protesting stomach, refusing to have breakfast without Yuuri.

His parents bustled around the kitchen, fussing over him and trying to persuade him to eat something while he waited, but he remained firm.

He heard the key click in the lock and bolted for the door.

Yuuri stood in the doorway, his hands clutched over his coat. For some reason, he wasn’t wearing any gloves. His face was red from the cold, as were his hands.

“Yuuri!” he exclaimed, taking Yuuri’s hands to warm them.

Yuuri winced and snatched his hands back.

“Yuuri! You’re bleeding!” He held Yuuri’s wrist gently in his hand and turned it to stare at the gash on his palm.

“It’s just a scratch,” Yuuri protested. He lowered the zipper of his jacket and Victor stared with his mouth open.

There was a little puppy sitting inside Yuuri’s coat. He’d curled up and fallen asleep, nestling against Yuuri’s heart.

Victor reached out fearfully and touched the dog’s curly fur with the tips of his fingers.

“A man was selling puppies out on the street,” Yuuri explained, “and I thought that if you don’t mind –”

“Oh Yuuri!” Victor breathed out and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“– and if your parents are ok with –”

“Yuuri!” He pulled Yuuri into a hug, taking care to not squeeze the puppy.

How was he like this? How did he always know just what Victor wanted? What had Victor done to deserve someone like Yuuri in his life?

“You can name him,” Yuuri went on.

He stepped back and called out to his parents. “Mom! Dad! Come see!”

They rushed out of the kitchen with worried looks on their faces.

The puppy stirred and opened his eyes. Victor took him gently out of Yuuri’s coat and held him out to demonstrate to his parents. “Can we keep him, please?” he asked, feeling like a little boy again.

“He’s so cute!” his mother exclaimed and ran her hand over the puppy’s fur.

“He must be hungry,” his father observed.

On cue, both Yuuri and Victor’s stomachs growled.

“And not just him,” Victor’s mother said as they all broke out into laughter. She made for the kitchen where she searched around in the fridge before she found something a puppy could eat.

Yuuri pulled off his extra layers and joined them all in the kitchen.

Victor’s mother filled a bowl with food for the puppy and they gathered around to watch him. He gave the food a curious sniff and then took a careful bite.

Victor gave a contented sigh and his eye fell on the gash on Yuuri’s hand. He jumped to his feet and ran to fetch the first aid kit.

His mother was setting the table for breakfast when Victor returned. He lowered himself onto his knees before Yuuri. “May I?” he asked and held up a band aid.

“You should disinfect the cut first,” his father chimed in.

Yuuri held out his hand and Victor wiped it with rubbing alcohol. Yuuri winced, but kept his hand in Victor’s. Victor covered the cut with a band aid and smoothed it with his finger.

“I hope it heals soon,” he whispered and pressed his lips over the band aid.

He raised his head, suddenly aware that he was on his knees on the floor in front of Yuuri with the boy’s legs on either side of him.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said softly.

They stared at each other without saying a word. For some reason, Victor held his breath.

A clatter broke the silence, making them both jump. Victor’s mother had set a plate piled high with pancakes down on the table.

Yuuri blushed. The smell of pancakes washed over them, but still Victor remained where he was, ignoring his hunger. The sun was just rising over the houses outside and its rays fell over Yuuri’s face, making it look as if he was glowing.

“Your pancakes will get cold,” his father warned from somewhere far away, on the other side of the table.

Yuuri folded his arms around Victor and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered a second time.

Victor’s heart beat fast.

Yuuri released him and he knew that he had to get up now.

What followed was the best breakfast he could remember. He wouldn’t have traded it for the fanciest breakfast in the most expensive restaurant in the world. They sat at the kitchen table together and tried to think of a good name for the puppy who curled up on the floor at Victor’s feet and fell asleep.

Victor reached down and scooped him up into his arms. He was so small and so soft.

“What about… Makkachin?” he whispered. He raised his head and met Yuuri’s eye.

Yuuri smiled. “I like it!”

“Makkachin…” his parents repeated thoughtfully and he could hear the note of approval in their voices.

 

Makkachin was a very demanding puppy and what he demanded was attention. Unfortunately, he didn’t pick the best way of showing it.

On Monday everyone left Makkachin alone in the house only to find upon their return that he’d chewed his way through several pairs of shoes. They had to hide their things and make certain that closets were closed while they were away.

Makkachin was very clever. It took him a mere week to learn what was and what wasn’t allowed and by the end of the week he also learned to ask to be taken outside when he needed it. The outdoors were very fascinating and very terrifying for him.

Victor delighted in walking Makkachin and wished he had more time to do so. He would come home in the evenings, drained by his practice and still he’d crouch down and play with Makkachin, trying to teach him new commands and rewarding him with treats if he managed to guess what Victor wanted from him. Sometimes he would just curl up in a ball with him on the floor.

Yuuri laughed at Victor’s antics. Victor’s parents took photos of them with the dog and life was full of all the joy in the world.

“Can he sleep with us?” Victor asked on Makkachin’s third night with them. He cradled the puppy in his arms and gave Yuuri a big-eyed pleading look.

“Yes, of course, he can,” Yuuri agreed and Victor wondered if the pleading look had worked, or if Yuuri would’ve said “yes” anyway.

It was suddenly very important to know and he tried to invent an excuse to use it again.

He lay awake for a long time, trying to think of what he could do to check. Whatever he asked for, he’d have to ask for it normally first and Yuuri would have to say no and then he could try the pleading look. He congratulated himself on this brilliant idea and decided that he’d try it every time he asked for something.

Morning came and found them sitting together at the kitchen table again, having breakfast.

“Can I have the last pancake?” Victor asked, eyeing the plate that had, until recently, held a stack of pancakes and wondering if he really wanted another one.

“Of course.” Yuuri slid the plate over to Victor.

So much for that.

As the day went on Victor kept asking for this and that, becoming increasingly more conscious of how much he was asking for. He’d never asked for this much before, had he? He wasn’t always this demanding? What if he was irritating Yuuri with his constant requests?

He tried to read Yuuri’s reaction in his face. Was he irritated? Did he want Victor to stop? But either Yuuri’s face remained unchanged at the sound of Victor’s request, or he smiled as if nothing would please him more.

After several days Victor started to get irritated with himself. Why couldn’t he think of a good request to make? All of his ideas thus far had been for straightforward things and it wasn’t too surprising that Yuuri had said yes. It had to be for something big, but what? But, try as he might, he couldn’t think of anything suitable at all.

 

Two days before his birthday he arranged with _Victor’s Secret_ to come for a photoshoot. This meant going to work with Yuuri.

He stood next to Yuuri on the subway, feeling his heart hammer excitedly in his chest. He questioned Yuuri about what he would have to do and where he would have to go, determined to know every detail.

He wasn’t a model like Yuuri, but just this once he could pretend. It would be fun, he told himself as a part of him trembled in terror.

“I suppose we’ll be sharing change rooms,” Yuuri said and a blush spread over his cheeks.

For a moment, Victor wondered why the boy was blushing. They’d seen each other without clothes before and had changed in front of each other plenty of times and then he remembered Yuuri’s confession about his fantasy. He squeezed Yuuri’s hand without saying a word.

“Don’t tease me, Bunny,” Yuuri whispered almost under his breath.

Victor wondered how he was supposed to respond to that. Was he supposed to flirt? He tried to read the answer in the lines of Yuuri’s face, but could glean nothing. He agonized for several moments and then realized that it was too late: the moment had gone.

He gave a heavy sigh. He was so hopeless. It was a wonder how anyone could put up with him.

“This is our stop,” Yuuri announced and Victor followed him obediently off the train.

He expected a modern office building, knowing that Yuuri deserved the absolute best. To his dismay, Yuuri led him to an old building that, judging by how grand it was, belonged to the Soviet era. There was some hope, however, because most of the building was surrounded by scaffolding, which promised some sort of renovation.

As soon as they stepped inside, Victor felt as if they’d entered a different building. He stared around himself in amazement, taking in the modern interior, the people in business suits crossing the lobby and wishing each other good morning.

“It’s a bit much when you first see it, isn’t it?” Yuuri asked.

Victor turned his head and saw the smile on Yuuri’s face.

“I felt the same way on my first day here,” he admitted just loudly enough for Victor to hear him.

Victor didn’t know what to say to that.

They made for the security desk where Yuuri showed his pass and explained that Victor was with him.

The security guard waved them through with a bored expression on his face.

They took the elevator up to the fourth floor in silence. Victor didn’t know what to say now. He realized with a pang that he’d forgotten everything that Yuuri had told him, but it was too late to ask questions now.

He was just considering how best to break the silence when the elevator stopped moving and the doors opened, letting them out.

Now, at last, the hallways looked like they belonged to _Victor’s Secret_. The walls were painted a bright pink and posters hung in frames every couple of steps. Most of them, Victor was happy to note, were of Yuuri. It was hard to keep going and not stop to examine every poster as if it was a painting in an art gallery.

Yuuri stopped before a door with his name on it and said, “We’re in here.”

Victor held his breath as Yuuri unlocked the door and let him enter first.

The walls here were deep red. A mirror stood in one corner that spanned the distance from the floor to the ceiling. The opposite wall of the room was half covered by another mirror that was surrounded by lights and had a table in front of it. The rest of the available wall space was taken up by a closet, which was only half filled with lingerie from all imaginable materials and in what looked like every single colour that existed.

Victor walked over to it and admired the collection on display.

“Phichit gets someone to put new pieces in at the start of every week,” Yuuri explained, joining Victor at the closet, “I’m allowed to take home everything that’s in here on Friday afternoon.”

“What will I wear?” Victor asked in an awed whisper.

“I think I have it here somewhere,” Yuuri answered, digging through the clothes. “Hmmm…” He pulled out something that consisted of criss-crossing leather straps, “No, not this one…”

Victor stared at the clothes in amazement. He was filled with an overwhelming need to see Yuuri in all of them, but he swallowed it down. They had a job to do.

At last Yuuri produced something in pure white and held it out to Victor. “This one, I think,” he said.

Victor took it and stared down at all the lace and straps, feeling a blush rise to his face. He wasn’t sure why he was blushing or why, when Yuuri took the clothes back to hold them while Victor stripped, he became very self-conscious.

It was Yuuri. They’d even had –

He finished dressing and Yuuri stood him in front of the mirror, turning him this way and that so that Victor could admire himself from every angle.

“I wish I could do your makeup,” Yuuri sighed, “but I’ll only get in trouble for it.”

Victor found himself also wishing that Yuuri could do his makeup.

“What do you think?” Yuuri asked.

Victor’s eyes returned to his reflection. The clothes fit him like a glove. They didn’t scratch anywhere and they flattered his figure. What else could he possibly ask for? “I like it,” he said.

“You don’t,” Yuuri countered. He gave Victor a thoughtful look. “It really suits you, but I have a feeling that you’d prefer something else.” He stepped up close and lowered his voice. “What do you want, Bunny? Leather straps? A mesh suit? A corset?”

Victor remembered the time when Yuuri had worn the mesh suit and again he thought of their conversation about Yuuri’s work.

He took Yuuri’s face with both hands and kissed him. He stepped forward and Yuuri backed away until he hit a wall and still they were going.

Yuuri’s arms wrapped around his neck and he held on, but Victor had more than just kissing planned.

Still it took all of his self-control and the memory of how much Yuuri had wanted this to break the kiss and drop to his knees before him. His hand fumbled over Yuuri’s pants, searching for a zipper as Yuuri let out a loud gasp. Victor pulled the zipper down slowly and then moved the pants and underwear out of his way just enough so that he could get what he wanted.

He paused and raised his eyes. Did Yuuri still want this? What if he’d changed his mind?

Yuuri’s face was bright red and he struggled for breath, but when he met Victor’s questioning glance, he nodded.

_Yes._

He heard the chatter of voices behind him and the sound of a door opening. Without thinking, he jumped to his feet and stepped in front of Yuuri to shield him with his body.

“Oh!” two voices gasped very nearly in unison.

Victor stared at two women who stared back at him.

“We’re here to do your makeup,” one of them explained after a long awkward pause.

Victor nodded numbly. The sounds behind him suggested that Yuuri had pulled up his zipper and was probably fully dressed now. Victor suppressed his disappointment. If only he’d moved faster! They’d been interrupted before he’d gotten a chance to do anything.

“Come here,” one of the women gestured at the other half of the room.

Victor went to sit at the table without a word, biting his lip in frustration.

“Don’t do that!” one of the women snapped.

“I… I need to go to the bathroom…” Yuuri mumbled.

Victor raised his eyes and stared at the boy’s reflection. He was very flustered and his eyes were fixed on the floor, as if he was avoiding looking at everyone around him. He lingered on the spot for several seconds and then bolted out of the room.

Victor fought the urge to sigh. Maybe Yuuri was having second thoughts about the whole thing.

“Now where should we start with you?” one of the women asked and, for the first time, Victor looked at them both properly.

Both women spoke English without a Russian accent and that, along with a single glance, was enough to tell Victor that they must’ve come from America with Yuuri.

One woman, very evidently the one in charge, was older than the other, but Victor would never dare to attempt to guess her age. Her blond hair was tied back in a tight bun and she wore a business suit, but the strictness of her appearance was balanced out by the good-natured smile on her face.

The second woman had short curly black hair. She wore a tank top that left her midriff exposed, possibly to show off the piercing in her belly button, and a pair of jeans.

They introduced themselves by name, but Victor’s memory did that unfortunate thing it often did when the second after someone introduced themselves he forgot their name entirely. So he did his best to smile politely and nod along to what they said.

“My! Aren’t you a handsome one!” the blond-haired woman exclaimed. “And handsomer up close too!”

The younger woman leaned forward and confided in a conspiratorial whisper that carried across the room, “When we found out that Yuuri was coaching a figure skater, we all started watching figure skating competitions! You’re our absolute favourite! No questions about it!”

“Thank you.” Victor was very flattered by this even though most of him was convinced that they were biased in his favour.

“Yuuri absolutely _adores_ you,” the younger one whispered, casting a quick look around the room to see if he was back yet.

Victor’s heart skipped a beat. He was very flattered of course. “He’s… He’s…” For some reason, it was hard to put two words together and he struggled for a long time before he could say something coherent, fighting against the blush the spread over his cheeks. He needed to say something! Anything! “He’s very kind to me.” He finally managed, but “kind” didn’t even come close to doing it justice. He doubted there was a way to express just how much Yuuri had done for him.

“And you to him,” the blond woman added with a crooked grin.

Victor remembered that they’d walked in on them a few minutes ago and his face took on a shade close to purple.

The younger woman clasped her hands and sighed in a way that matched all too well how Victor felt in that exact moment. “You should hear him when he talks about you! You can’t help but fall in love with you when he talks like that!”

“Tilt your head a bit,” the older one instructed and gave a long tired sigh. “Any chance you can stop blushing?”

“Sorry…”

They pressed something to his face and waited for his skin to resume its usual colour.

“The way he talks is like…” the younger one went on, missing the reason Victor had blushed. She hunted around for the right word, waving a makeup brush through the air.

Victor watched both women set up a collection of bottles and boxes on the table before him. They armed themselves with several makeup brushes, the younger woman holding out at least five different-sized brushes for when the older woman would need them.

“…like poetry!” the younger woman exclaimed at last, glad to have found the right word. “I keep expecting him to recite a sonnet, or something.”

Victor clenched his hands in his lap as they set to working on his face.

“Everyone at _Victor’s Secret_ is mad about Yuuri,” the younger one confided in a whisper as he moved Victor’s hair out of his face, “so they’re all mad at you for stealing him away.”

Mad at him? Victor fidgeted nervously. Did that mean that these two women were as well? And – stealing? Victor had never though of himself as stealing anyone away. Yuuri was perfectly free to date anyone he liked, surely!

“Of course the girls all knew they had no chance,” the older one said. “Close your eyes,” she whispered.

Victor did as he was told.

“I dunno…” the younger one’s voice drifted over to Victor from somewhere behind him. “Didn’t he date… what was her name again?”

“No, he didn’t date her!” the older one countered. “She’s been going out with Jake for _years_!”

They slipped into gossip about people Victor had never met and he found himself tuning them out.

Was Yuuri really as in love with him as they claimed? Was it possible? But then, they spent so much time together, surely Yuuri would’ve said something if he was! No, no they were just imagining things. Yuuri was a kind person, so of course, he said all those nice words about Victor. Next they would be saying that he was in love with Yuuri just because he saw a chance to grant his wish and acted on it.

“Sorry for interrupting your moment earlier,” the younger one said with a mischievous note in her voice. Victor wondered if she really was sorry. “I’m sure you can make up for it later.”

The older one gave a loud “humph” and both women burst out laughing.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Victor assured him, despite the protests deep down that their apologies weren’t enough. “It was just a fantasy Yuuri had, so I thought I’d give it to him.”

Too late Victor realized that he shouldn’t have said anything. He cringed mentally and opened his eyes.

The two women moved around him and his eye fell on the mirror in front of him.

Yuuri stood just behind him.

 

“I… I need to go to the bathroom…” Yuuri stammered out, feeling more embarrassed than he’d ever been in his whole life.

Yuuri ran off to the bathroom, desperate for a moment alone. His mouth still burned from the kiss and, well, if he was entirely honest with himself, the rest of him was on fire too.

He locked himself in one of the stalls and leaned his back against the door. Then he closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.

His thoughts were a mess. He wanted to march back and demand that they leave and let Victor finish what he’d started. He wanted to hide away from everyone so that they wouldn’t see how turned on he was. He wished they hadn’t walked in on them, because now everyone would know. But most of all, he wanted Victor to be right there with him. His body demanded and insisted, but what his heart really wanted was very simple.

He wrapped his arms around himself and imagined Victor enveloping him in one of his big warm hugs and bringing his lips to Yuuri’s ear to whisper, “I love you.”

It wasn’t much, was it? It was such a small thing.

But Nationals were coming up in just over a week and they would determine who made it into the Olympics.

 _Just a little more,_ he told himself. _Forget about your feelings. Can’t you do it for a little while? This is the only chance Victor might ever get._

He opened the stall and went to wash his face with cold water. Then he gave himself a stern look. Everything was fine. Everything was under control.

He tried to smile, but it was weak and unconvincing. He practiced until he was at least a little bit more convincing and forced himself to return to his change room.

There he found Victor already wearing makeup and looking ready for the photoshoot. As always, Nelly and Randi did an excellent job of highlighting all of Victor’s best features.

And then Victor spoke and the words dropped on Yuuri like a ton of bricks. “It was just a fantasy Yuuri had, so I thought I’d give it to him.”

A long pause followed those words before Randi spoke.

Yuuri remained fixed to the spot. They continued talking, exchanging jokes and got up to go, but Yuuri couldn’t understand what was happening around him anymore. The door closed behind them and Yuuri stared at it for a few mute seconds and then dropped into the chair Victor had vacated.

Of course, Victor saw it that way. How could Yuuri have expected anything else?

 _You don’t have to do things just to please me,_ Yuuri thought. _I thought we were past this. I thought you understood that you don’t need to give yourself away at every opportunity._

He was suddenly grateful that Victor hadn’t had the chance to even start what he’d intended.

_I need to repeat all my lessons about confidence and add something else. I need you to see just how wonderful you are._

He thought of his encounter with the ex. _Was it him? Did he throw you onto this path, Victor?_ An ugly thing raised its head in his heart and he wished he’d hurt the ex more. For a moment, he wished he’d rammed that knife straight into his heart.

But it wouldn’t have set anything right. It wouldn’t have closed the wound in Victor’s heart. It wouldn’t have made things easier between them.

Yuuri realised he was sliding his finger along the scar on his palm and stared down at it. It was almost gone. What would he have done if the man had cut his face just as he’d threatened?

He thought of that morning in the kitchen with Victor on his knees before him and the warm kiss pressed into his palm.

Yuuri raised his hand to his lips. _I will protect you,_ he promised and buried his feelings. He wouldn’t let them get in the way. Not anymore, he vowed.

 

Victor lay on a blanket made of black lace as one of the assistants folded it artistically around him. They put a giant spoon beside him and he lay under the studio lights, feeling like a melting dessert.

Yuuri appeared among the assistants crowding around him and everything was right again.

He sat up just as one of the assistants brought him his skates and he started pulling them on.

Yuuri joined him and sat down at his side. “Let me,” he whispered and Victor released his shoelaces, offering up his feet without protest.

Yuuri placed Victor’s right foot carefully over his thighs, caught a lace in each hand and bent his head down over the skate.

Victor was suddenly filled with a strong wish to run his hands through Yuuri’s hair. Instead of reaching out, he stared at what he could see of Yuuri’s features.

Yuuri finished and raised his head. They stared at each other in silence.

 _What do you see when you look at me, Yuuri?_ Victor wondered. _Is it just someone to be pitied?_

As if he’d heard the question, Yuuri whispered, “You’re beautiful…”

Victor lowered his eyes. “They did a good job with my makeup,” he said softly. His glance fell on the palm of Yuuri’s hand. He never did find out how Yuuri got that cut. He took Yuuri’s hand in both of his own. “Does it still hurt?” he asked.

A sad smile appeared on Yuuri’s face. “No. Not at all.”

Someone asked Yuuri to stand back and the photoshoot began at last. They got him to strike different poses, stand up and lie down to kick his feet up in the air. He tried out different characters from playful ones to shy ones. Then they took him back to the change room and had him switch clothes. He tried thongs, corsets, leather straps and a mesh suit (although it didn’t look like Yuuri’s mesh suit). They changed his makeup time and again until he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.

Yuuri was somewhere nearby, but Victor barely caught more than fleeting glimpses of him. He knew that Yuuri wouldn’t leave him and Yuuri proved him right by interrupting the photoshoot so that they could both have lunch.

When, at last the crew, had their fill of taking photos of Victor, they sent him away to the change room where Yuuri sat him down in a chair and slipped onto the table before him, armed with makeup remover.

Victor closed his eyes and felt Yuuri gently rub his face.

It was quiet. He could smell the faint scent he always associated with Yuuri – the one that calmed him down and he let himself breathe slowly, as if he was about to fall asleep.

He was so tired.

How did Yuuri do this every day? It was harder than figure skating practice!

Yuuri leaned this way and that, barely making a sound and, for a moment, Victor thought he’d left. He opened his eyes and stared at the boy.

“Not falling asleep on me, are you?” Yuuri asked light-heartedly. “We’ll be home soon,” he added in more serious tones. “There. I’m finished.”

He slipped off the table and went to fetch Victor’s clothes.

Victor sat, feeling cold from Yuuri’s absence.

When they got on the subway Yuuri sat Victor down with the words, “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

Victor nodded and rested his head against one of the dividers. Yuuri took him and placed Victor’s head on his shoulder as if it was made from something fragile.

Victor sank into sleep almost right away.

He felt safe in Yuuri’s company in a way he hadn’t felt since he’d been small when he used to believe that his parents could keep all the monsters away.

He’d learned since then that monsters were good at disguising themselves as people.

“We’re here,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor sat up sharply and didn’t protest when Yuuri helped him gently to his feet.

He was so tired. He hadn’t told Yuuri that Yakov had grilled him more than ever the day before to make up for the day he would miss and he lacked the courage to admit it now. For some reason, that only became evident now.

He was so tired that he skipped dinner and went straight to bed.

And yet, some part of him was awake, because he felt it when Yuuri joined him under the blanket and only then did he relax completely.

 

On the day of Victor’s birthday, Yuuri woke up early. He got up, brushed his teeth and got dressed. He made for the kitchen to wait for Victor to wake up.

Victor’s parents were already there. They hung up several balloons from the ceiling and were busy making a birthday breakfast when Yuuri joined them.

Before he could say anything, however, the sound of footsteps broke the silence and Victor stumbled in, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Good morning…”

“Happy birthday!” they exclaimed as if they’d agreed to shout it all at once.

His parents threw their arms around Victor and he looked around at them in mild surprise.

“We wanted to get you something special,” his mother said. “We know that a car would be best, but… you know how it is.” As she spoke she held out a box wrapped in colourful paper and tied with a ribbon.

Victor placed it on the table, protesting faintly that she didn’t need to apologize and that, really, he didn’t want a car.

Yuuri watched him tear the paper off, wondering what it was.

The paper out of his way, Victor stared down at the book in his hands.

“My mother got it from her mother,” she went on.

It looked like an old edition of an encyclopedia.

“It’s a family heirloom,” Mrs. Nikiforov continued.

Victor smiled at her. “It’s beautiful.”

She opened it to show the dedication someone had left in small writing. Yuuri didn’t even try to read the words. He knew he wouldn’t understand a single one.

Victor read it out in Russian, confirming Yuuri’s suspicions, and then stopped to stare at the page in astonishment. Finally he read, “Pushkin.”

“He was a family friend,” his mother went on.

Yuuri listened politely as she said something about an ancestor of Victor’s who was a revolutionary. It was all lost on him. All he could understand was that Mrs. Nikiforov had wanted to get her son an expensive present and could only afford to give what was a priceless family heirloom instead and, even then, she was upset that it wasn’t jewels, but a book.

Victor went on insisting that he really liked it.

Finally Yuuri stepped into the conversation. “I… uh… Happy birthday, Victor!” he pecked the skater on the cheek. “My present was Makkachin, but you already knew that.”

Victor set the book aside and crouched down to call Makkachin over to him.

The puppy ran, his ears flapping against his head, making everyone laugh.

Victor scooped him up into his hands.

Yuuri stepped closer.

“Thank you,” Victor said and lowered his eyes, running a hand through Makkachin’s fur. “Although, I know… I know that I’m not good enough to take care of him on my own…” Yuuri opened his mouth to protest.

Victor met his eyes. “Will you look after him with me?”

Yuuri didn’t hesitate. The word flew off his lips before he could stop and think, before he had the chance to really consider it. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update ahead of the usual schedule?


	14. On the Nature of Love

The days between Victor’s birthday and New Years were like a pleasant dream. He spent all his free time with Yuuri and Makkachin, going out for walks and laughing at the puppy’s fascination with snow.

That winter was cold, reminding him of winters from his childhood. It snowed almost every day, much to Makkachin’s delight who saw every heap of snow as a barrier he needed to jump even if the heap was several times taller than he was. Sometimes nature would cover every available surface with a crust of ice. Frightening icicles hung from each roof and frost grew over the windows.

At night, they sat on the couch, a thick blanket draped over their knees and Makkachin curled up at their feet.

Makkachin adored everyone, but most of all he was enamoured with Victor. When Victor came home, Makkachin squealed with joy, jumping up and down and wagging his tail. Such a display couldn’t leave anyone indifferent and it never failed to bring a smile to Victor’s face even if the day hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped.

On New Year’s Eve Victor and Yuuri were outside with Makkachin and Victor’s parents. Victor, remembering his childhood again, bought fireworks and they spent the night filling the air with lights and loud bangs.

The last firework took off into the air and Victor put an arm around Yuuri, “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“Thank you to this year for bringing you into my life.” Yuuri’s cheeks reddened. “You mad it all so much better.” He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. “Even if this is all the happiness I will ever get,” he whispered, “it is plenty.”

Yuuri pulled him closer. “You deserve to be this happy every day.”

Victor suppressed a bitter smile. Yuuri was ever the optimist, but Victor knew that happiness was fleeting. At some point life would present its bill and he will have to pay whether he wanted to or not.

“I wish I had a bottle of expensive champagne right now,” he whispered.

Yuuri released him and Victor opened his eyes in time to see him crouch down over his bag and pull something out. “Like this?” he asked, placing a bottle in Victor’s hands.

“Oh my god!”

Yuuri produced two glasses from his bag. “I have two more for your parents. We can call them over…”

They turned to see Victor’s parents laughing and exchanging excited kisses.

“The first toast is ours,” Yuuri whispered, stepping closer.

Yuuri handed him a bottle opener, but before long he admitted defeat and called his father over for help. He uncorked the bottle with a loud pop and poured out four glasses of bubbling gold champagne as Victor’s mother exclaimed in delight and amazement, clapping her hand.

“To you, Victor,” Yuuri said, raising his glass. “May this year bring you lots of happy moments.”

He wanted to protest that they should toast Yuuri first, but they were all toasting him. “Thank you.”

The champagne hit him hard. When he lowered the empty glass he saw Yuuri’s eyes sparkle at him. “For you now,” he said, feeling his face redden.

His parents joined in, agreeing loudly and showering Yuuri with every compliment they could think of.

He blushed and accepted the toast.

After that toast, Victor’s parents insisted that they didn’t want any more of the champagne and Victor and Yuuri split the remainder of the bottle between the two of them.

The champagne ran out too quickly and Victor felt a tinge of disappointment when all they were left with was an empty bottle, which Yuuri put away carefully.

A melody drifted over from one of the windows above them. It was slow and gentle and it made Victor’s heart beat faster. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but they both took each other’s hands and began to sway to the tune.

Victor was in that slightly drunk state somewhere between that state when the drinker thought that everything was hilarious and when the most outrageous ideas seem like brilliant ones.

Victor rested his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and gave a happy sigh. Everything was perfect.

He pressed his lips against Yuuri’s neck and rubbed his hands over Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri laughed.

When Victor was a child his parents told him that if he made a wish on New Year’s Eve, it would come true. Ever since then, he made a wish every year even after he moved to America. Years went by. Sometimes he celebrated alone and sometimes he had a boyfriend there with him for a short time. But one thing remained consistent – his wishes never came true.

This year, for the first time, he had no wish to make. In the warmth left after the champagne and the soothing calm of Yuuri’s presence he felt as if he had everything he could possibly wish for.

 

Russian Nationals started with an uproar. Victor, who was gaining more support every day and who the media claimed was showing his true potential at last, appeared on ads for _Victor’s Secret_ scattered all over St. Petersburg. The ad showed him lying on his back, kicking his legs up in the air as he pulled on the laces of his skates. A playful smile twisted his lips and he was – oh horror of horrors! – wearing a corset.

It was a disgrace, some people said. Others claimed it was more than that.

Yuuri gave a heavy sigh as he finished reading another one of the articles out loud and looked at Victor apologetically. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t –”

“Don’t be,” Victor said. “I’m used to bad press and, for once, I disagree with them completely.”

Yuuri stared at him, feeling guilty. He should’ve known! Hadn’t Victor had enough bad press? Why did he put him in a position to get more?

Victor took him by the hands. “Please don’t apologize.” Yuuri tensed, prepared to hear Victor say something negative about himself again, but Victor merely smiled and said, “I really don’t mind. I enjoyed being a model. Honestly.”

For a while, Yuuri was silent, debating with himself if it was a good idea to tell Victor that he’d gotten a poster of him in a corset. Not that he had anywhere to hang it. Maybe one day… But he found, to his own amazement, that he was scared to continue that thought and speculate about the future. It was better to live in the present and worry about each upcoming competition than to make big plans.

He nodded to show he accepted Victor’s words and returned to talking about the competition itself. Yakov had dedicated a lot of his time to Victor and Yuuri didn’t want all that to go to waste because he was getting distracted.

“Let’s talk through the routine again,” he suggested.

The Nationals were in Moscow that year and they had to take an overnight train to get there.

Yuuri and Victor had the bottom two bunks, leaving the top two for someone else. Who would join them? Would they get lucky enough that they’d get the whole compartment to themselves? The compartment wasn’t very big – the two bottom bunks had just enough space between them for a person to walk through. By the window, a small table bridged the gap between the bunks.

He forced himself to focus on Victor’s words as the skater pulled up his legs and sat hunched over on the bed, reciting the short program and mimicking each element with his fingers.

Yuuri wished he could take a picture. It was such an endearing sight! If only they could’ve taken Makkachin with them, then the image would’ve been complete!

 _Maybe next time,_ he thought before he could stop himself.

_Next time? What next time?_

The compartment door opened and Yuuri’s heart fell.

But it was only the conductor. She gave them both a smile. “Good evening,” she said in Russian and asked a question, looking pointedly at Victor.

 _Tickets again, probably._ Yuuri hunted in his bag for their tickets and passports.

She took everything he held out to her and checked each document thoroughly.

After several silent minutes, the woman returned their documents to them and asked Victor something.

He nodded. “Two, please,” he answered in Russian and she left.

Yuuri had picked up a handful of Russian words since his arrival in St. Petersburg. But still he was lost every time someone tried to speak to him.

The train began to pull away from the station and Yuuri let out a sigh of relief. They got the compartment all to themselves after all.

“Time to sleep, I think,” he said.

“Wait a little bit.”

Yuuri waited patiently for an explanation and several minutes later he got it when the conductor returned with two glasses of tea. They really were glasses, each one placed in a metal holder. Yuuri studied his curiously as Victor paid for the tea.

The train picked up speed, filling the air with a monotonous sound and Yuuri felt himself start to nod off. They drank tea by the light of a single burning lamp. Outside it grew darker as they left the city behind.

After that it was merely a matter of settling down to sleep and hoping that the train wouldn’t keep them awake the whole way to Moscow.

Yuuri lay in the dark and stared up at the bank above him. No matter which way he turned, he couldn’t get comfortable. He felt as if they were hitting stones every couple of seconds. His thoughts went round and round in circles until he began to suspect that he would go insane

“Yuuri?” Victor whispered across the darkness between them.

He sat up carefully, remembering how low the top bunk was and fumbled around for the light switch.

The switch clicked under his fingers and a dim light filled the compartment.

“What’s wrong?”

Victor gave him an apologetic look (or what Yuuri assumed was an apologetic look – he couldn’t see very well in the semi-darkness and without his glasses). “Sorry for startling you. I couldn’t sleep and I heard you turning and thought that maybe you couldn’t sleep either.

“You’re right,” Yuuri admitted. “I couldn’t sleep at all.”

For a minute, they sat in silence, apart from the rumbling of the train.

“What shall we do?” Victor asked.

Yuuri stared at the bed and wondered if it would take his weight. Then, finding that he didn’t much care, he slipped over to Victor’s bunk.

“Move over,” he whispered.

Victor shifted aside without question.

It was a tight squeeze, but they just managed to fit. They put their arms around each other and pulled each other close. Yuuri let his head drop next to Victor’s. He thought they would talk to each other a bit, whisper playfully in each other’s ear, but sleep took them both, as if it had only been waiting for this.

The single light burned all the way to Moscow, illuminating two figures curved around each other.

Morning came. The faint light of dawn filtered in through the window, just barely daring to show its face.

Yuuri opened his eyes and took in the sight of Victor’s sleeping face. He brushed a few locks away and then reached for his watch and glasses on the little foldout table, taking care not to wake Victor.

It was almost 6. They would be arriving soon. He needed to wake Victor up, but it was so hard to do it.

Yuuri pressed a gentle kiss to one cheek and then to the other.

Victor moved his head and made an incoherent sound.

“Time to wake up, my love.” Yuuri froze, realizing too late what words had just left his lips.

Still Victor slept on, oblivious to what Yuuri let slip.

Yuuri untangled himself from Victor’s limbs and got up.

He stretched and forced himself to think about all the little things they’d need to do once they reached Moscow.

“Hmm…” Victor murmured and opened his eyes. “Good morning. What time is it?”

Yuuri checked his watch again. “Ten to six.”

Victor gave a resigned sigh and got up. “Best to just accept it,” he said with a look of exaggerated sadness that made Yuuri laugh.

 

Of all the national competitions, the Russian Nationals received the most attentions. This was the reason why, as soon as Yuuri and Victor stepped off the train in Leningrad Station, they were surrounded by the press on all sides. Other passengers turned their heads, curious about the way the media was behaving.

The usual questions followed. Everyone wanted to know if Victor expected to wing, but he merely put an arm around Yuuri and promised to do his best.

Yuuri wasn’t flustered at all, of course not. It he couldn’t form sentences properly, it was merely because his mind was still half asleep.

One of the reporters brought up the ads again and Yuuri mentally cursed the ads and everything to do with them, including _Victor’s Secret_ and especially himself.

“I couldn’t let Yuuri have all the fun,” Victor declared and pulled Yuuri closer to him.

Yuuri stared into Victor’s face, despite his best efforts to act nonchalant. _I love you,_ he thought, as the full force of his feelings hit him flat in the chest. _I love you and nothing will ever change that._

Victor went on smiling and Yuuri felt himself about to do something foolish. The smile seemed to be egging him on, as if it was some kind of challenge.

“I bought a poster with one of the ads,” Yuuri suddenly declared. “Victor turned out amazingly well.” He faced the press as he spoke.

 _Oh god! Oh god!_ He wanted to run away and hide. He wanted to go to another country, someplace where no one could possibly know who he was, where they got no newspapers and no TV and they’d never even heard of figure skating.

He didn’t dare look at Victor now and see the way he was looking at Yuuri.

Victor raised Yuuri’s hand and planted a kiss on his knuckles. “Thank you.”

Now Yuuri was staring at Victor with his mouth slightly open. He fought down the urge to grab Victor’s head and give him a long and passionate kiss. He stood as if everything was fine and he had all his emotions under control. It was fine, right?

 

Everything was fine, wasn’t it? Victor wasn’t panicking, not at all.

He _was_ panicking, he realized.

He watched the other skaters practice and trembled, unable to go out onto the ice. They were all full of confidence and moved like people who belonged here – out on the ice, at the Russian Nationals and in the team representing their country at the Olympics. How did they know how to look like they belong?

_Do I really belong here?_

“Victor?” Yuuri whispered gently.

He gathered all his courage and forced himself to focus. He was here for Yuuri and for all those times when he should’ve tried harder, all those times when he couldn’t win if not gold, then at least silver.

He did his best to reassure Yuuri, to smile like nothing was wrong. “Sorry, got a little lost in thought.”

Yuuri put a hand on his arm. Sweet Yuuri, gentle Yuuri, Yuuri who was always there for him, who didn’t care that Victor was a failure, an embarrassment that most people didn’t want to deal with.

Victor gave a little nod and stepped out onto the ice.

After what felt like the blink of an eye, he was stepping out on the ice for the short program.

Again, he went through the turmoil of heartbreak. He thought of his first boyfriend, of the empty summer that had followed, of days that never seemed to end and nights that brought no comfort. Bitter thoughts went round and round in his head, making it impossible to concentrate on a single one of them. Here was a jump to show how elated he’d been when he’d first discovered their love and here came the turmoil and breakup afterwards.

He opened his heart for them all to see what was inside and let the judges hand out their marks, if they dared to assign points to his suffering. Maybe he was naïve, but at least he was honest.

The routine ended and he stood with his chin raised. What do they say now? Will this tell him he’d wasted his whole life away for nothing? Would they dare to analyze each choice he’d made, as if his life had been a figure skating program?

They chanted his name and he bowed. He knew that there would never be a day when he didn’t remember how little they’d cared for him in the previous seasons. Everyone wanted to root for the winning side. Everyone saw their team’s victory as their own victory.

And then there was Yuuri.

Yuuri waited for him with open arms and tears in his eyes.

Victor accepted the hug and held on for a long time with his eyes closed and his face pressed into Yuuri’s shoulder, breathing in Yuuri’s scent. He wasn’t sure what the smell was, but there was something about it that he always associated with Yuuri.

“Come, you need to get your marks,” Yakov grumbled from somewhere nearby.

Victor let Yuuri lead him to the kiss and cry where they held hands tightly as they waited for the judges to decide.

 _If I win gold here, and then at the Olympics, and the European Championships, and then in Worlds, will I deserve to have you by my side?_ Victor wondered as he stared down at Yuuri’s hand.

“Amazing,” Yakov said softly and Victor knew he was looking at the scores, “another world record.”

Victor stared at Yuuri instead.

“Congratulations!” Yuuri exclaimed, his face lighting up with the most beautiful smile Victor had ever seen.

 

_“I hear you’re the top figure skater in the world?” Mikhail said with a crooked smile. He stood in front of Victor on the landing halfway down to the first and blocked Victor’s path._

_Victor’s heart thumped faster in his chest as he took in the boy’s jeans, the jean jacket and the black shirt he had on underneath. He had the air of a bad boy about him and it made Victor weak at the knees just to look at him._

_“I don’t know anything about figure skating,” Mikhail admitted with a look that suggested that he didn’t care enough to change this, “but I heard that you broke a world record and I thought it sounded impressive.”_

_Victor swallowed nervously at the thought that he’d somehow impressed the boy in front of him._

Victor blinked.

The admiration on Yuuri’s face gave way to concern. “Victor? Are you alright?”

“Yeah…”

He thought of all those times he gave himself to all those other boyfriends and he thought of his feelings for Yuuri. Was it the same? Was it merely gratitude for being treated so well for once or was there something more?

Yuuri put his arms around Victor and held him tight.

Victor’s heart beat fast. He could sort this all out later, he told himself. There was no rush.

The Russian Yuri was out on the ice next. Victor hardly ever spoke to him and barely even saw him. After the Final, the boy took to practicing alone, devoting what seemed like every hour of every day to getting better.

Sometimes Victor’s conscience would insist that he should be doing the same thing, but then he’d remember how pleasant his single free day was and how much energy he’d have on the day that followed and he would keep his training schedule unchanged.

Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand, returning his thoughts to the present, and they left the kiss and cry to find somewhere to watch the competition from.

Yuri’s skating was precise. He didn’t make a single mistake, but his skating was cold, expressionless. He was skating a tango, but there was very little resemblance to a tango in the way he carried himself. It was as if someone had replaced him with a very good robot copy and programmed it to skate.

A thought flitted across Victor’s mind and was gone before he could understand what it was, because in the next instant Yuri was done and standing with his head raised, issuing a challenge to the world.

The wait for the marks went on forever. Would Yuri break the world record again? He always beat Victor, of course, but…

His scores appeared on the screen and the audience let out a loud groan, almost louder than the cheering they’d rewarded Victor with. Yuri had received a very good technical score, but a poor one for performance, placing Victor in first place after the short program with a several point lead.

Yuuri took Victor’s face with both hands. “You’re first,” he said, locking eyes with Victor.

But Victor’s thoughts were all on the boy in second place.

Yuri sat with his head lowered and Victor could see the shape of the thoughts in his head. He’d given it his all and still it wasn’t enough.

“Let’s celebrate,” Yuuri suggested. “I read about a restaurant that’s supposed to be very good and not too expensive. Do you want to check it out?”

Victor smiled and forced himself to focus his attention on Yuuri – _this_ Yuuri next to him. “That sounds wonderful.”

“We can invite Yakov along, if you want.”

“Invite Yakov…” Victor repeated as if the words were in a different language. Then, he gave himself a mental shake and made for the kiss and cry. He heard Yuuri follow behind him.

“Yuri!” he called, face splitting into what he hoped was a friendly smile. “Do you want to come have dinner with us?”

Yuri raised his head and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

 Victor shrugged. “Because it might be fun?”

For the briefest moment Yuri was caught off-guard and then he curled his lip and Victor braced himself for an insult before he even realized what it was he was doing.

“Yakov is invited too,” Yuuri added, putting a hand around Victor’s arm. “If he wants to come, of course.”

Everyone’s attention turned to the old coach, who grumbled something about promising Lilia a dinner at their favourite place.

 _I guess it’s going to be just me and Yuuri,_ Victor thought. It wasn’t a terrible scenario, of course, but it was suddenly very important that Yuri join them (although he couldn’t explain why).

But, no, that was wrong – he _did_ know why. It was because whenever he caught a glimpse of Yuri off the ice and not at a competition, he had the look of a lost puppy about him.

“Come, Yuri,” Victor insisted, “it will make for a good change and we can have something really delicious!”

Yuri turned away and his hands tightened into fists. Victor flinched, suddenly terrified that the skater would hit him.

With excellent timing as always, the press arrived and dragged them separate ways that all led to the same place – the official press conference of the Russian Nationals.

When, at last, the press let them go free, Victor and Yuuri made for the change room where they found Yuri waiting for them.

“You’re late,” the skater grumbled.

Yuuri grinned. “Sorry about that.”

The restaurant Yuuri had read about was halfway across the city and they took the subway, barely saying a single word to each other the whole way.

Victor, feeling drained by the press conference, sat with his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and napped.

“We’re here, Victor,” Yuuri said gently and gave Victor’s hand a squeeze.

He sat up straighter and then got up to his feet. “Let’s go, Yuuri,” he turned his head and added, “and Yuri.”

The Russian Yuri rolled his eyes. “You’re not about to tell me that you dragged me all this way just so you could make bad jokes all the time.”

Victor looked surprised at this. “No, of course not.”

 

Yuuri saw now what Victor was doing. He’d attended enough competitions and dropped by Victor’s skating rink often enough to see how lonely Yuri was. But why would Victor invite his rival to dinner like this when everyone else would’ve just acted as if it was someone else’s problem to deal with?

 _Because Victor is very kind-hearted,_ Yuuri answered himself.

So he didn’t question what Victor did and tried his hardest to support him. But, as it turned out, the plan wasn’t as easy as it looked.

They found a free table and took their time to study the menu before each of them made their choice.

The waiter wrote down their orders and left.

An awkward silence descended upon them as they all realized that they didn’t know what to talk about.

Yuuri stared around the room. It was a small place, fitting no more than 20 people. The tables and chairs weren’t very remarkable, but the owners had put in a lot of effort into decorating the walls. Apart from paintings showing farmers, there were farmers’ tools as well as what looked like plastic stacks of wheat.

“This place has very interesting decorations,” Victor said in the tones of someone desperate for something to say. This observation earned him a “harrumph” from the other Yuri. The boy rolled his eyes and muttered something about the owner having no sense of style.

Victor waited for him to finish before admitting that he liked the interior just the way it was.

The waiter chose this moment to arrive with their food.

Yuuri took in the steaming plates and gave a happy sigh. He missed most of their argument in favour of inspecting all the food.

“Here, try some of mine, Yuuri,” Victor offered.

“And you need to try mine!” he piped up. He hadn’t tried his dish yet, but it smelled so good that it had to _be_ good too.

He watched Victor place a piece of meat on his plate and handed him two dumplings in exchange. He was suddenly grateful for Yuri’s presence. He had a strong suspicion that, if not for the skater, he would’ve fed his dumplings to Victor.

 _It will make for a good date,_ he suddenly thought. He imagined sitting on Victor’s lap as they took turns feeding each other.

His love for Victor was demanding to be set free. It was getting harder to hold it back, to keep himself from confessing and ruining everything.

 _Victor needs to focus on this, right now,_ Yuuri told himself. _I’ll talk to him when the season ends and then we can decide what happens next._

But no matter how many times he said it to himself, his heart skipped a beat each time Victor’s eyes lingered on him for too long.

“This is delicious,” he said. “What you ordered, I mean,” he clarified.

“We can switch, if you want,” Victor offered.

“You two are disgusting!” Yuri muttered, throwing them a dirty look each.

Yuuri met Victor’s eye. “Do you really want to? I don’t care either way.” He watched Victor struggle with his feelings and saw the quick glance he threw at Yuuri’s dish.

“Only if…” Victor struggled a minute longer and lowered his eyes again. “Yes, please.”

Yuuri slid his plate over to him without another word and accepted Victor’s dish when he slid it over in return. When he raised his eyes again, he spotted the way the other Yuri was glaring at him and making gagging motions. “Are you happy with your food, Yuuri?” he asked, unable to keep a sliver of ice out of his voice.

Yuri pulled his plate closer and gave him a suspicious look. “I don’t want to switch with anyone, if that’s what you’re suggesting!” The gesture and question were a wasted effort, however, since his plate was already empty.

“I was just wondering, if you wanted anything else,” Yuuri said in pacifying tones.

Yuri had wolfed down his dinner as if he’d expected that any minute now someone was going to steal his plate away and run off with it.

For a moment, Yuuri was certain that he would snap, but the boy just stared at him.

“I will have dessert after this,” Yuuri added. “What about you, Victor?”

He turned his attention to Victor who caught Yuuri’s meaning and nodded. “I want some dessert too.”

Yuri stared at his plate. He was obviously still hungry.

Victor called a waiter over and asked to look at the menu again. As soon as he got it, he handed it to Yuri.

“Why are you giving it to me? I didn’t say I wanted dessert, did I?” Yuri snapped.

Victor held out his hand for it again.

Yuri clung to it. “Maybe I want something else!” he protested.

A silence followed those words and Yuri studied the menu with an intense look on his face, as if making a life and death decision. When he looked ready, Victor summoned the waiter again and Yuuri braced himself for another outburst. This time Yuri didn’t kick up any fuss.

After dinner and dessert the three of them headed back to their hotel. Yuri held Victor’s hand as the two skaters talked to each other. After some trial and error they found a common topic at last: figure skaters from the past and spent the whole subway ride debating which skater in the history of the sport was the best.

It was a cold January night, but the sky above them was clear. Yuuri stared up at the stars and tried not to worry about anything.

The walk from the subway station to the hotel was too short for Yuuri’s liking, but there was no reasoning with buildings. They went up in the elevator together and only split up once they reached the right floor.

“Sorry for leaving you out of the conversation,” Victor apologized to Yuuri as soon as they’d waved the other skater off.

“It’s ok.” They reached their door and Yuuri pulled out his key card.

“Are you happy with me, Yuuri?” Victor suddenly asked.

Yuuri froze. How was he supposed to answer a question like that? “Yes, of course.”

“You don’t think I’m using you?” Victor went on.

Yuuri turned his whole self to face Victor. “What’s brought this on, all of a sudden?”

Victor stared down at his feet. “I don’t want you to be miserable with me.”

 _Now. I could tell him now,_ Yuuri realized. Then another thought came to him, _I_ should _tell him now._ The confession rose to his lips, but he swallowed it back down. “I’m very happy with you,” Yuuri said once he could trust himself to speak.

Victor’s attention remained fixed on his feet and the carpet under them.

Yuuri pulled him into an embrace and held him close. _As soon as you win gold in Worlds, I will confess. I won’t even wait for the scores to be announced, I’ll confess in the kiss and cry and I don’t care who sees us._

It was starting to get late. They needed to go sleep, but Victor needed this right now.

“I thought it was very good what you did for Yuri,” Yuuri murmured into Victor’s ear.

Victor’s hold tightened. “He looked so lonely. I don’t know if he has any friends or family to worry about him.”

Oh, what the hell! Yuuri needed something to keep him in check, so why not an angry teenage figure skater, who else happened to be Victor’s biggest rival? “You can invite him again, if you like,” Yuuri offered and, knowing which question would come next, he added, “I don’t mind.”

Victor sighed in relief.

“You’re wonderful, do you know that?”  Yuuri asked, leaning against the door to their room.

“I’m not… not in the way you are…” Victor protested faintly. He took Yuuri’s hands in both of his own and raised one to his cheek. “You saved me,” he whispered.

“Isn’t it a little early to say that?” Yuuri whispered back. He felt as if his body was on fire. What he really needed right now was a cold shower and a few minutes by himself so he could stop thinking about crawling over Victor.

His face must’ve given away the turmoil in his mind because Victor gave him a curious look. “Are you alright?”

“Just tired,” Yuuri said and it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Your face is all red.” Victor trailed the tips of his fingers over Yuuri’s cheeks. It wasn’t helping Yuuri’s colour, he was sure of it.

Victor had no competition tomorrow. They could – no, no it was a terrible idea. How could he even think such a thing?

“Sorry! I keep talking instead of letting you rest!” Victor opened the door and let Yuuri go on ahead.

 

The next day passed somewhere between interviews and practice. Only when the evening came did he get a chance to relax in Yuuri and Yuri’s company. This time he even succeeded in making Yuri laugh.

“What time is your train back?” Victor asked as they said their goodbyes for the night.

“I’m taking the last Sapsan the day after tomorrow,” Yuri answered. The Sapsan was the high speed train that went between St. Petersburg and Moscow.

“Yuuri and I are taking the overnight train. Do you want to come with us?”

An expression flashed across Yuri’s face to be replaced by suspicion. “So you can be disgusting the whole ride long?”

Yuuri felt his cheeks burn and turned away.

“It’s your choice, of course,” Victor said in a calm tone and put an arm around Yuuri. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Yuri exclaimed, making them both turn. He lowered his eyes with a blush. “Thank you.”

 

For many years Yuri was angry with Victor. To have all that talent, all that potential just to throw it away was unthinkable. He was disgusted by all the rumours and the glimpses he’d caught of Victor’s boyfriends.

But now, having talked to Victor for a few hours, he found – to his surprise – that the man was actually likeable. Sure, he had the air of a kicked kitten, but all it meant was that anyone who talked to him was instantly filled with pity at the sight of his constant silence.

Yuri had actually tried to hate him and found it impossible. The man could take the gold medal away from him and break one world record after another and all Yuri could do was rejoice.

Perhaps it was his sense of justice demanding that the time had come for Victor to win competitions. It was just a shame that the competitions included him, which meant that his senior debut wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped.

All this meant that when they went out on the ice together for their practice and then their warmup the knowledge that Victor was somewhere nearby filled him with a feeling, as if the man was there to protect him from something.

It was stupid, but Yuri wasn’t going to waste his time thinking about it now. He’d just worry about it later.

He was second last to go out on the ice. He stood by the boards, listening to Yakov. He tried to focus on what the old coach was saying, but then Victor barged in and Yuri’s attention turned to him.

What was it?

“Do you have someone here to cheer for you?” Victor asked in a low voice with the air of someone just making casual conversation.

It was a stupid question. The stands were packed to bursting with his fans. They were chanting his name and waving their banners, painted with words of encouragement.

He saw the deep sadness in Victor’s eyes. He thought of his grandfather, who always came to watch him skate, but couldn’t this time because Yuri’s mother’s health had gotten so much worse that he’d been forced to go to St. Petersburg to look after her. “I don’t,” he answered.

“Then Yuuri and I will cheer for you,” Victor promised and squeezed Yuri in a hug so tight that it hurt. “Good luck,” he whispered.

He released Yuri and stepped away, giving the other Yuuri a chance to wish Yuri luck as well.

Yuri felt a blush rise to his cheeks. It was all so lame, but if at that moment someone came up to him and started making fun of Victor or his boyfriend, Yuri would’ve punched them in the face, he was sure of it.

His eye fell on Yakov. The old coach stood with a sad look on his face.

“See you later, old man,” Yuri dropped over his shoulder as he turned to go.

Yakov’s expression changed to an angry one.

“Next on the ice –”

He skated away from the boards and circled the rink to get into position, not bothering to wait for them to say his name.

He stopped and assumed his initial position. The theme of his free skate was love and devotion. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath.

What did love and devotion mean to him? He always thought of his grandfather before each skate, but this time he thought of Victor and Yuuri instead. What those two had was more than what so many other people did. He saw the way their eyes lingered on each other and could almost hear the words that went unsaid.

Would he get to see more of them? Would they spend time together in St. Petersburg? He certainly hoped so.

 

Yuuri watched the Russian Yuri skate, unable to keep the amazement from his face. The skater was so different from the way he’d been before! He moved over the ice with a tenderness Yuuri had never seen in him until now.

Without thinking, Yuuri reached for Victor’s hand and held it. There they were – all his feelings for Victor laid bare in a way that needed no words whatsoever.

His heart thumped in his chest, full of longing, begging to be heard. Tears rose to his eyes.

“Yuuri? You’re crying,” Victor said and took Yuuri’s face with one hand as he wiped the tears off with the thumb of his other.

He closed his eyes and let Victor wipe the tears away.

When, at last, the tears stopped and Victor took his hands away, Yuuri opened his eyes and stared up into his face.

_Can you see how much I love you?_

Victor’s heart beat fast as he held on to Yuuri. He opened his eyes to ask why Yuuri was crying, but no words came, as if over the last few minutes he’d forgotten how to speak.

They were lost together in a world of their own.

He knew that the competition was still going around them, but that was somewhere over there – far away and not really important that much.

“Victor? It’s your turn to go up.” Yakov’s voice dragged him back to the real world.

Victor’s head was a mess of emotions, but he knew that he had no choice but to go. He couldn’t just tell the judges that he’d rather skate later. A good skater was supposed to keep his emotions from interfering with their skating.

He headed out to cheers from the audience.

Yuuri stood at the boards, worry and terror written all over his face.

There was no time left to reassure him, so Victor could only hope to do so with his skating.

Yuri had done such a good job showing devotion in his skate. It was up to Victor now to show the joy that someone felt when their love was returned.

 _But what do I know about the true joy of love?_ he asked himself. _All I’ve ever known was shattered hopes._

He’d been happy during those last few months, he reminded himself. He’d found peace with Yuuri and…

_Yuuri._

He jumped, his thoughts full of the memory of their first meeting.

Yuuri had brought a kind of stability into his life. Yuuri had made it all bearable. He had helped him keep fighting.

He jumped and thought of the marriage offer he’d once made to Yuuri. How many times had he done what he’d thought would please Yuuri? He was prepared to do anything to show his gratitude, much to Yuuri’s dismay.

Gratitude?

He stumbled, but kept going.

Yuuri was a good person and a great friend.

_Boyfriend._

He under-rotated a jump, but kept going.

They always slept together, true, but not really _together._

They called it going out, but did it really count?

Apart from the time when he’d been interrupted before he could give Yuuri a proper blowjob, when was the last time they had sex?

Was it proper going out, if they weren’t having sex? Wait. Was that a proper criteria? No, it wasn’t.

What if it was?

Yes. Probably. He wasn’t sure.

He stumbled again.

But, then, where was the line between boyfriends and friends? The line between friendship and love?

That wasn’t for him to decide. That question was for someone else.

Who was Yuuri to him? That was a much more important question.

The question hung in the air as he got to the step sequence.

He glimpsed Yuuri’s face in the crowd.

_Friend._

The word sounded so wrong that for a moment he felt as if he’d fallen again.

Friend.

Boyfriend.

The words echoed mockingly in his head.

And then the routine ended.

He stood still, unable to shake the feeling that, once again, he’d failed.

He’d come so close, so very close and this was it. He wasn’t going to make it into the upcoming Olympics. Who knew where he’d be in four years?

But what stung the most wasn’t his own failure. No, oddly enough, at some level it brought with it a sense of release. What stung the most was that when he looked at the audience all he could see was Yuuri weeping.

He ran for the kiss and cry to hold Yuuri close, as if that could take the pain away somehow.

“Yuuri, it’s alright.” He rubbed the boy’s back, hardly knowing what he was saying. “It’s alright.”

Yuuri wept harder, tightening his grip on Victor.

Victor felt as if his heart would stop any second.

And then he became aware of the sound around them. “Victor! Victor!”

He pulled away and looked up at the stands. The people were all on their feet and everyone – even those with Yuri’s posters – were chanting his name as they clapped their hands to the beat.

Yuuri made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

Victor turned to look at him.

Yuuri was wiping his tears away as he smiled at Victor. “They’re all very touched by your routine.”

He stared up at them again. It was touching, but the audience’s opinion had no influence on the marks awarded by the judges.

They didn’t wait for Victor to get to the kiss and cry and posted the marks.

Victor squinted up at the screen and then got out of the skating rink so he could get a better view of a different screen.

Before he could even see his score, his eye fell on the place he’d ended in.

His heart fell.

Third.

After all that effort, all it amounted to was third place. They weren’t going to pick him for the Olympic team. They will pick skaters who showed that they can consistently skate well.

Victor dropped his head onto his hands.

He didn’t think of the effort he’d spent to get this far. He thought only of Yuuri and how disappointed he must be that all his sacrifices had been for nothing.

He felt someone put their arms around him and Yuuri whispered into his ear, “We’ll just have to work harder for the next competition.”

Next competition.

Victor bit back his response and said nothing.

He watched Yuri walk over to him and suppressed the urge to run. To think that he’d had the nerve to wish Yuri good luck! Him!

Yuri glared at him for a long time before at last he spoke. “You must skate better next time. Promise me.”

He found himself nodding and promising. He wasn’t really sure why.

After that it came as no surprise to him that Yuri didn’t take the same train up to St. Petersburg with him and Yuuri.

 

After the Russian Nationals, Yakov spent what felt like every free minute of his time calling people, explaining, arguing and a few times doing something uncomfortably close to pleading.

“Victor is showing great promise,” he said more than once. “Victor has a lot of potential,” he repeated like a broken record and tried not to think about the sixteen-year-old boy the skater had once been. “Just give him a chance. Please.”

Lilia watched it all with an unimpressed look on her face. “Why are you working so hard for this?” she asked one evening after a particularly difficult conversation.

Yakov gave a heavy sigh and set the phone down. “I think – no, I _know_ he can win a gold medal at the Olympics. All Victor needs is for there to be no distractions. For once in his life, he just needs to _focus_.”

Lilia looked unconvinced.

He gave her a miserable look. It came to him as no surprise that he couldn’t convince her, but he hoped that he’d had better luck with the other people he’d talked to. “You don’t believe me.”

“You’re doing this to make up for what you consider your own mistake,” she said like someone who’d analyzed the situation from different angles and weighed up different explanations before finally pronouncing their verdict. “You’re letting your guilt cloud your judgement.”

Yakov rubbed his forehead. “Am I just really naïve?”

Lilia walked over to him. “Perhaps,” she said and put her arms on his shoulders. “But, then, I don’t think I’d like you any other way.”

She didn’t often get affectionate with him, preferring to show her love for him only on special occasions. He allowed himself to be pulled in and pressed his mouth against hers.

She pulled away slowly and gave him a gentle smile. “Make your calls,” she said, stepping out of his embrace and preparing to turn away. “Victor needs to go to Sochi.”

 

When it came, the call caught Victor by surprise. The number that flashed on the screen wasn’t one he recognized. He answered and braced himself for it to turn out to be a mistake, or something else equally disappointing.

“Hello?”

“Am I speaking to Victor Nikiforov?” a stern voice demanded in a tone that made it plain that it wouldn’t accept any messing about.

Victor’s stomach flipped over in panic. At least it meant that it wasn’t the wrong number. “Yes, s-speaking.”

And then they told him. They didn’t prepare him. They gave no speech like “we spent a long time reviewing all the candidates.” No, they just told him that he would be on the Olympic team, waited for him to make some kind of acknowledgement that he understood what they’d said and rung off.

Victor stared at his phone in mute shock.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri was at his side in seconds, but Victor was only dimly aware of the boy’s presence.

The world was a long way off and it was some time before Victor remembered that it existed. Slowly he became aware that he was standing by the skating rink, that his practice had just ended, that he had been about to go home, that there were other people around him, that Yakov was lecturing one of the other skaters, that Yuuri had just asked him a question.

Yuuri.

“I…” He stared into Yuuri’s face. “I’m on the Olympic team.”

Yuuri raised a hand to his mouth and tears appeared in his eyes. “That’s amazing, Victor!”

He nodded numbly. “But why did they pick me? I mean, I’m –”

“Stop right there!” Yakov’s voice cut in.

They turned their heads to watch the coach striding purposefully towards them. “Finally called you, did they?”

Victor nodded again.

Every skating in and around the rink turned to stare at him. He could almost hear what they were thinking. Here was Victor, who probably held the world record for the number of times he’d ended up in last place, Victor who hadn’t ranked higher than 30th, who’d managed to scrape together just enough points to make it into the Grand Prix that season, and this same person was going to the Olympics in Sochi to represent their country. The world had gone mad.

“About time!” Yakov exclaimed. “I’m glad I was able to make them see some sense at last!”

“You told them to include me in the team?” Victor gave his coach a surprised look. He could feel panic closing in on him. If he failed at the Olympics, he wouldn’t just be failing himself and disappointing a lot of people, but he’d also be putting Yakov’s authority as figure skating coach on the line.

“Of course I did! You’re the first person to land a quad flip successfully in a competition and you’ve succeeded enough times since for people to start calling it your signature move! Who else was I supposed to recommend?”

Yuuri pulled Victor into an embrace. “You deserve it more than anyone, Victor! Please believe me.”

He felt his face redden and lowered his head, not daring to agree.

He had to give it his all now. He had to do everything in his power to get that gold. That started with his routine.

He forced himself to meet his coach’s eye and keep his voice steady as he said, “I want you to raise the difficulty of both my programs.”

The old man smiled. “About time.”

 

Yuuri was out of his depth. He watched Victor train harder with every passing day and wished he knew how to help. Whenever Victor asked for his advice, Yuuri had no way of knowing what to say. Was he supposed to keep pushing Victor to work harder? Was it better to remind him to rest?

Now when Victor came home he didn’t have enough energy for anything, which included even talking. He napped on the subway on their way home, leaving Yuuri to sit in silence the whole way and make sure they didn’t miss their stop.

How long would Victor be able to take this much strain on his body?

Yuuri was terrified that when the time came, Victor would go out on the ice only to collapse from exhaustion and lose all his chances at any medal whatsoever.

Worse still was the sudden feeling of loneliness that came with Victor’s hard work. They used to take Makkachin out for walks together and just talk about whatever came to mind. Sometimes they said very little to each other and in those moments Yuuri would lean on Victor’s arm and act as if everything that needed to be said had already been said.

_I love you. If I don’t confess soon, I think I’ll explode._

But Victor had no time for that. He had no energy to spare for anything other than skating.

It was all temporary, Yuuri told himself. Once the Olympics were over with, they could talk about their feelings and their future. All that could wait.

He went out to walk Makkachin all by himself, becoming more acutely aware of how much he needed Victor by his side with every passing day.

Yuuri stared up at the few stars he could see in the night sky. He wanted to spend his whole life with Victor, in sickness and in health, through the good and the bad times.

 

They went down to Sochi two weeks before the opening ceremony. Victor’s parents were supposed to come to watch Victor compete. Yakov had gotten them free tickets and have even helped with finding a place to stay. Yuuri and Victor made arrangements to stay together again and no one questioned it.

Sochi was a small city by the Black Sea that came alive with the opening of the Olympics, almost bursting at the seams from all the excitement. A lot of effort had been poured into the whole event. The organizers wanted to impress the whole world. They wanted to outdo everyone out there.

Yuuri knew all this, but when the Olympics got underway he had no idea if they’d succeeded in impressing: he was too busy worrying about Victor to pay attention to anything around him.

He stood in the audience with Victor’s parents and tried to watch the opening ceremony, but ended up listening to their stories about Victor when he’d just started competing in figure skating.

It was a long wait before Russia’s team went out and when they did, it was impossible to pick Victor out among them.

Somewhere in that big crowd was Victor, dear Victor, _his_ Victor.

Yuuri closed his eyes and pictured Victor’s face. Was he thinking of Yuuri right now?

 

Victor walked next to the Russian Yuri, near the front of their team. Yuri didn’t want to trail in the back and had dragged Victor along with him and Victor didn’t have the heart to argue.

He stayed silent the whole time and did his best to keep his eyes away from the flagbearer. Someone had decided that the captain of the men’s hockey team deserved the honour of carrying their country’s flag and, perhaps, the captain was a good person, but his attitude towards the other athletes put Victor in mind of one of his exes and terrified him. So he did what he always did when he felt uncomfortable – he thought about Yuuri.

Somewhere in that big crowd was Yuuri, dear Yuuri.

They got to the spot where they’d been told to wait and Victor looked around. His surroundings were a mix of colours and sounds. It made his breath catch in his throat.

Why wasn’t Yuuri right here next to him, sharing the beauty of this moment with him?

He missed Yuuri terribly. Yuuri was his lifeline, no, more than that – Yuuri was his life.

He imagined himself staring across the crowd to where Yuuri stood and watched. _I’m right here._

He had a strong, overwhelming desire to do something foolish, to go over to where someone was currently giving an official welcoming speech, wrestle the microphone out of their hands and shout something like…

He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly.

_I love you, Yuuri._

Of course. It was so obvious when he thought about it. He placed his hand over his heart and felt its beating.

He thought of the  confusing that had cost him the first place in the Nationals and he knew that he had to tell Yuuri how he felt. The thought was at once terrifying and exciting.

What would Yuuri say?

Victor opened his eyes and stared up at the sky. _I must confess. I must know. I need to know_ now _and make peace with his answer, whatever it may be before I skate the short program._ He vowed to the stars that, the first chance he got, he would confess his feelings.

 

By the oddest of coincidences, at that very moment Yuuri was also making a vow.

 _I promise not to let my feelings get in the way. You won’t suspect a thing about my love, Victor. I won’t allow it. I can’t let you lose this chance because of me._ He drew in a deep breath.

Hadn’t he heard someone say that an easy sacrifice wasn’t good enough?

_I promise to act in a way that won’t give away just how much I love you._


	15. The Real Victor

The opening ceremony was nothing more than one big party. It lasted late into the night, even after the official part was well and truly over.

The captain of the hockey team insisted that it was traditional for the teams to get drunk on the night of the opening ceremony and, despite several protests, succeeded in dragging most of the team off with him to what he claimed was the best club in town

When they arrived at their destination (a club that looked like every single other club Victor had seen), it turned out that Yuri was too young to be allowed inside. He left in a big huff, cursing everyone in sight.

Victor stared after him, longing to follow. He knew from experience that nothing good ever came as a result of listening to people like the captain of the hockey team, but his teammates were on all sides of him, laughing and making jokes and walking into the open doors of the club. He wanted to be one of them, to be accepted as a team member, so he followed after them, promising himself that it was just this once.

The club was poorly lit inside. Most of it was crammed full of dancing bodies and one side had a bar with drinks lined along the wall. A single man ran around, serving everyone.

“My dear Victor,” the captain drawled, suddenly appearing at Victor’s side and draping an arm around him, “why don’t you come with me?”

Victor’s breath caught in his throat as he considered his choices. He didn’t want to dance with the man and neither did he want to drink with him.

“Come where?” he asked and cursed himself for not making the choice himself.

He was too weak-willed for this. He could already see the way the night would go. His mind flashed the images before his eyes: getting drunk together, dancing and then doing something that Victor would really regret in the morning.

He was already regretting everything.

“How do you feel about –”

“Actually,” Victor cut in, as fear coursed through him, “I promised to meet Yuuri after the ceremony. He’s probably –”

“The little boy can wait,” the captain snapped. “That little runt needs to learn to know his place.”

Victor’s anger flared and he spun around to snap at him, “Yuri is a very talented skater! The top in the world! And I wasn’t talking about him. I meant Yuuri Katsuki, who is my _boyfriend_.” He dropped the word, hoping it would serve as a hint.

Unfortunately, it only made the captain laugh. “Boyfriend?” he draped his arm around Victor again. “You don’t need to lie to me, sugar,” he whispered, making Victor shudder. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier.”

 _I wasn’t looking at you!_ Victor protested mentally. He tried to pull away, but the man clung on as if they’d been glued together. _If I hurt him, he won’t be able to compete and I’ll get in trouble. I can’t be disqualified because of him!_

It was a terrible thought, but Victor realized with mounting terror that it was becoming a very real option with every passing second.

But to hurt someone!

And then a voice cut in, dangerously close, and Victor felt his knees tremble at the sound of it. “Excuse me, but I do believe that’s my boyfriend you’re bothering.”

They turned and, sure enough, there was Yuuri, his face full of cold anger.

Victor ran to him and caught his arm with both hands.

“The knight in shining armour comes –” the captain spat.

“Let’s go, Victor,” Yuuri led him out, turning away from the captain in disgust.

They had to stop to get Victor’s coat and he spent the whole time throwing looks back over his shoulder, worried that the captain would follow them. He was so worried that he didn’t even notice Yuuri helping him into his coat until Yuuri started doing up the buttons.

He wanted to protest, but there was no time for talk. Any minute now the captain would come after them, he was sure of it. He did up the top buttons, carefully slipped his hands out of Yuuri’s way and then followed him out into the freezing night air.

Yuuri was still radiating that cold anger.

“I’m sorry!” Victor exclaimed, rushing after Yuuri. “I shouldn’t have let them drag me along!”

Yuuri put his hands on Victor’s shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Victor nodded. “Yes. Thanks to you!”

Yuuri snatched his hands away and stepped back. “Right. Let’s go.” There was an odd look on his face as he walked on.

Victor hurried after him, throwing anxious glances his way and trying to read his mood. He’d hurt Yuuri. He could see it in every line of his face and even the way he squared his shoulders. He put both hands in his pockets as he walked.

Victor bit his lip and stared at Yuuri’s arms. He tried to will himself to take it. Would Yuuri snatch it away? But, then, if Yuuri snatched it away, Victor wouldn’t have to confess. That alone would tell Victor how Yuuri felt about him.

He hesitated. Did he dare to do it now? He wasn’t ready!

If not now, then – when?

He _wanted_ to hold Yuuri’s hand. He wanted to be reassured by his touch.

 _You’ve done this before,_ he reminded himself.

Victor bit his lip and reached out for Yuuri’s hand. His fingers circled around Yuuri’s and then shifted a bit so that they could hold hands comfortably.

Yuuri held on.

Victor let out a sigh of relief.

“Where are we going?” he asked after along while.

“Back to our rooms,” Yuuri answered, “It’s 2 am and you need to sleep.”

“Thank you for rescuing me. I didn’t know what to do, I…” It was very important to make Yuuri understand, to make certain that Yuuri didn’t get the wrong idea. “I didn’t want to talk to him, but he thought – and I couldn’t push him away. He’s a hockey player! What if I hurt him?”

Yuuri stopped and looked into Victor’s face. “You’re amazing, do you know that?” He brushed Victor’s hair out of his face. “Even when someone mistreats you, you worry about hurting them.”

“Only because I worried that if the hockey team lost, I’d be blamed for it and then someone would disqualify me!”

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds and then Yuuri burst out laughing. Victor raised a hand to his mouth and giggled. He threw his arms around Yuuri and laughed harder, nearly falling over and hanging on to Yuuri for support.

It was such a welcome release of tension, that Victor laughed much longer than he truly needed, but Yuuri didn’t seem to mind.

Once they both calmed down, they walked arm in arm to their room, not saying anything the whole way.

It was calming to be together like this and for a while Victor allowed himself not to worry. Once they reached their room Victor made for the washroom and started getting ready for sleep, telling himself that it was too late for a serious conversation and that, in any case, it could wait until the morning.

 

Morning dawned and Victor woke up with Yuuri’s arms wrapped tightly around him, as if he feared that Victor would vanish in the night. His nose was pressing into Victor’s back, between his shoulder blades.

Victor lay still, afraid to wake Yuuri. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow, happy breath. Later on there would be panicking over the skate and worrying about results, but right here and right now he had this little moment of pure happiness.

He took Yuuri’s hand and pressed it to his heart.

His thoughts went round and round in his head. He ought to confess, he told himself. He was scared of confessing. Yuuri loved him back, he was sure of it. No, he was just being nice. Back and forth like some kind of tug of war until he was sure he would go insane.

“Hmmm…” Yuuri’s fingers moved. “What time is it?” he whispered.

“No idea.” He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to check his phone and find out what time it was. He didn’t want to know that he had to get up. He just wanted to lie here like this, with Yuuri holding on to him.

As if it heard him, his alarm went off. Yuuri released him and moved away.

Victor swore.

Yuuri sat up and smiled at him. “And good morning to you too.” He climbed off the bed with a laugh. “I’ll go first. You can nap for a few more minutes.”

“Yuuri…” He reached out for Yuuri, without sitting up.

“What is it?” Yuuri asked, stopping at the door and turning around to face him.

 _I…_ He stared into the boy’s face. “There’s something,” he swallowed and sat up. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s important.”

Yuuri sat down on the edge of the bed with a worried look on his face. “What is it?”

“Uh…” Victor licked his lips nervously. “Um, I…” How did people say it? How did anyone say it? There were lots of romance movies with confession scenes. For some reason, the only scene he could remember was from a comedy where the main character shouted his confession into a microphone. “I… um… Maybe it’s a little late to say this,” he began and forced himself to meet Yuuri’s eye, “what with, you know, how long we’ve known each other and with how we’ve been going out. Sort of.”

God, this was hard. Every word that came out of his mouth sounded clumsy and wrong and now Yuuri was staring at him with a terrified look on his face.

He tried to smile reassuringly. “I should’ve said it sooner, but the truth is – it was a long time before I was sure of my feelings.” And some part of him was still not sure, he added mentally.

 _No,_ he protested. _I am sure! I am!_

He shifted closer to Yuuri and took his hand. “I love you. Please believe me!” he added hastily. “I know there were all those others and –”

Yuuri put a finger over Victor’s lips. “I don’t care about the others. It only hurts me to see how much they hurt you.”

“Not all of them!” Victor protested. He reddened, feeling like an idiot. Who defended their exes during a confession? He stared down at his hands. “A few times things just didn’t work out. We weren’t that in love with each other, you know? Or the love ended, or something.” He winced. Now he was talking about falling out of love during his confession! Was there any way he hadn’t mess up yet?

Yuuri put his arms around Victor and hold him close.

A silence followed that seemed to go on forever and then Victor realized Yuuri was crying.

“Yuuri! What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

Yuuri’s shoulders shook. He pulled away and went on crying. “I don’t want to be like those others,” he said at last. “I don’t want to be just another person who got in the way of your dream.”

Victor pulled away and looked into Yuuri’s face. “You’re not. You’re the reason I got this far, remember?” He held Yuuri’s face and waited for him to agree.

“I did all I could,” Yuuri admitted, “but I was just so scared that it wouldn’t be enough.” He sighed and added in a whisper, “I still am.”

He slipped out of Victor’s hold and got up. “We need to go. You’ll be late for practice.”

The bathroom door closed behind him and Victor realized with a shock that Yuuri hadn’t said anything about his own feelings. He gave a long heavy sigh. Now what was he supposed to do?

The bathroom door opened and Yuuri rushed out.

“What –” Victor began, but Yuuri cut his words off with a kiss.

They held on for a long time and when one of them tried to let go, the other would catch him again.

“Yuuri…” Victor managed to get out between kisses. “Yuuri…”

“I’ve been so stupid,” Yuuri said and caught another kiss. “So, so stupid.”

“What –” Victor managed the next time he let go.

Yuuri caught him and held on for a long time before remembering that he’d been speaking. “I love you, too! Of course I do!”

His eyes shone, his face glowed.

Victor stared with his mouth open, marvelling at how much beauty one face could hold. “What?” he asked, the meaning of Yuuri’s words not getting through to him.

“I love you!”

And then the penny dropped and Victor pushed Yuuri onto the bed. He couldn’t really say why he did it. The reaction had come instinctively, like breathing, and he was back to kissing Yuuri, leaning over him.

Yuuri pulled away, protesting. “Stop! Stop!” He placed a hand over Victor’s mouth to prevent the man from kissing him again.

Only then did Victor realize that he’d climbed over Yuuri and that his knees were digging into the mattress on either side of the man. “Sorry…” He climbed off, looking embarrassed. “I… uh… got carried away.”

Yuuri sat up. “We’ll need to hurry. Practice starts in 30 minutes.” He ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Victor dropped onto the bed. 30 minutes. Right.

 

Yuuri leaned against the door and put his hand over his eyes. So much for his promise! So much for doing what was best for Victor!

He slid his hand down over his mouth and closed his eyes, savouring the memory of that kiss. It had burned him and made his heart beat faster than it had ever done before. Victor had never been like this before. He used to be all give and now suddenly he’d become all take.

 _Calm down,_ he told himself and leapt to the sink to splash cold water over his face and brush his teeth with cold water. _There will be plenty of time for all that later._

After some brief deliberation, he pulled his pajama off and took an ice-cold shower.

Five minutes later he was out, letting Victor have the bathroom.

For most of his life people gave him what to wear to seduce anyone who looked at him (or, as was often the case, at posters of him). In other cases where he got to choose what to wear for this same purpose, he took a lot of time before a mirror to pick something that both flattered him and suited his mood.

That day he hunted through his suitcase for the least seductive clothes possible. They were at the Olympics. Victor was here to compete not to… Yuuri almost buried his head in his clothes.

Finally he emerged with the ugliest clothes he owned and put them on.

Ten minutes later Victor kissed Yuuri again.

 

They sat at breakfast. Victor rested his chin in his hand and watched Yuuri drink his coffee.

Yuuri lowered his cup and talked about the upcoming practice session. He and Yakov had developed a technique for the practice, but what it was Victor was not in the right state of mine to understand. His eyes kept drifting over to Yuuri’s lips, which were a little wet.

Unable to help himself, Victor cupped Yuuri’s face with one hand and leaned close to catch a kiss.

 

They arrived at the practice session five minutes late and out of breath.

Victor caught the way people looked at them and the blush on Yuuri’s face and bit back a protest. He stepped out on the ice.

Yuuri rushed over to him. “Remember what I said,” he murmured.

The same words went round and round in Victor’s mind. “I love you,” he said.

Yuuri coloured. “Not that.” He pecked Victor on the cheek and added in a lower voice. “If practice goes well, I’ll make sure it won’t be the only highlight of the day.”

Victor skated away as his heart sang. This was how he’d imagined his career as a figure skater! This was how he’d wanted to spend his life! He jumped, feeling elated.

“Your left leg is too sloppy!” Yuuri shouted.

Every person in the rink turned to stare. He coloured, but the determination on his face remained.

Victor nodded and jumped again.

The practice that followed was very grueling. Yuuri made him go over bits of his skate many times and then called Victor over to talk about the emotions Victor needed to show in each part.

Afterwards, when they sat in the change room, a skater muttered, “I can only imagine how demanding he must be in bed!”

Victor sat up, ready to defend Yuuri when he saw the skater raise his eyebrows and laugh. “Chris,” he said, offering his hand.

“Victor,” he replied.

“Who hasn’t heard of Victor the Miracle?” Chris asked with a smile.

Victor felt stupid, but it was too late to correct his mistake now.

“That Yuuri is really smoothing. Got a great eye for people, it seems.”

“Thank you.” He wasn’t sure if that was the right response, but it was the only one he could think of.

Chris elbowed him with a laugh. “No need to be modest. I’m amazed how well he got you to skate after a night with him.”

“What?”

“No need to be modest,” Chris assured him. “We all saw how you looked when you ran in. Sleeping in after a wild night is perfectly natural.”

There were some chuckles in the change room. Victor looked around the room. He saw Yuri scoff in disgust and march out.

“You’re right,” Victor said, seeing how pointless arguing was. “It was… a very… um… wild night.” He rose. “Excuse me.” They moved aside to let him pass. No one said a word, but he could imagine what they would say as soon as he left the room.

Let them talk. Let them say whatever they liked. He couldn’t stop them anyway.

He found Yuuri in a big debate with Yakov about his skate. The snatches of conversation that reached his ears weren’t enough to tell him what it was that they couldn’t agree on.

A smile spread over Victor’s face. Here it was – pure happiness. This was what he’d wanted all his life. He didn’t want his boyfriend arguing with his coach, of course, but this – working together, all caring about the same thing.

Yuuri caught Victor’s hand and went on arguing.

Even Yakov seemed to be enjoying himself. “Well? And what do _you_ think, Victor?”

He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s temple. “Do you really expect me to argue with my boyfriend over this?” he asked.

Yakov shook his head, but he couldn’t suppress the chuckle that rose to his lips.

Yuuri pulled Victor close. “You don’t have to agree with me on everything,” he offered and put his head on Victor’s shoulder. “But you might have to make it up to me later.”

Victor grinned.

“Go get some rest,” Yakov grumbled, but still there was the hint of a smile on his face.

“Yes, coach!”

They walked away, laughing.

“Hey! Yuri!” Victor called, spotting the skate.

The boy turned.

“Do you want to come with us for lunch?”

For a moment, it looked as if the boy would turn him down and then he nodded. “Only if I get to pick the restaurant!” he declared.

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a glance. “Fine by me,” Victor agreed.

It was a good lunch. They stopped on the way to pick up Victor’s parents along with Yuri’s grandfather. The place Yuri picked was empty and they had it all to themselves all throughout lunch. Yuuri sat next to Victor and talked about figure skating, his thigh pressed against Victor’s and his elbow brushing against Victor’s from time to time.

Afterwards they all went for a walk by the sea where they split off into little groups. Yuuri and Victor were at the back, arm in arm. Yuuri was silent.

Victor let the murmur of conversations around them and the splashing of the waves wash over him. It was very calming.

It was a perfect moment and, what was more, it was all theirs. Victor was suddenly filled with the absolute certainty that the future was going to be full of perfect moments like this.

“What do you want to do later?” Yuuri asked in a low voice.

Victor considered his answer. At first he found himself trying to guess what was the answer Yuuri wanted to hear and then wondered what he himself wanted. “I think I’ll go for a run.” It was a cold day, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

Yuuri gave a nod and said nothing.

It was a good day and it only got better.

They said their goodbyes to the others and went their separate ways. Victor changed his clothes and set off for a run, leaving Yuuri behind.

Yes, the day was good. It wasn’t very cold for winter, but, then, Sochi was very far down south from St. Petersburg.

Victor jogged down a pathway that followed the line of the sea, breathing the salty air in.

He should’ve persuaded Yuuri to go jogging with him, he realized.

He turned back around and hurried back to Yuuri. The boy must be tired of waiting for him by now, he decided. His own heart gave a painful lurch and he sped up.

He ran up several flights of stairs and unlocked the door with his key, feeling sweat slide down his skin.

“Yuuri –”

The man lay on the bed, dressed in more leather straps than Victor had ever seen in one place in his life. Victor’s mouth dropped open as he took in the sight before him. His gaze trailed from Yuuri’s toes to his face and then back to the middle of his body, unable to decide which detail to focus on. A leather band circled each ankle. Three leather straps curved around his thighs, held together with silver buckles that – Victor gulped – went up his inner thighs. Four similar belts lined his stomach, sitting right above his hips. Two crossed over just above those, looping around Yuuri’s shoulders and meeting in a buckle in the middle of Yuuri’s chest. Two more belts rested just under Yuuri’s nipples. One belt circled Yuuri’s neck. There were two on each arm just over his biceps and…

Victor took a huge gulp of air.

Yuuri’s arms were joined on the pillow above his head with another leather belt.

A wicked smile played on his lips as he turned over onto his stomach to demonstrate his bare backside and then turned back around. He didn’t bother with a thong this time, or for anything at all as if he’d decided that covering his dick was completely unnecessary.

Victor was really sweating now.

With a quick movement of his fingers, Yuuri undid the belt holding his wrists together and leapt off the bed. He was at Victor’s side in an instant.

Victor’s eyes followed the free belt as he imagined it closing over his own wrists.

“I see you’ve already worked up a sweat,” Yuuri whispered.

He tossed the belt aside and pushed Victor onto the bed, lowering him onto his back. He climbed on after him and whispered, “If it wasn’t for your competition tomorrow, I would’ve insisted you ride me as hard as you can right now.”

Victor’s face was so red at those words that he could barely breathe.

“I can’t tie you up,” Yuuri went on as if he couldn’t see Victor’s reaction, “but there are still things that I _can_ do.”

His mind raced. He imagined Yuuri tearing his clothes off and then sucking him with as much force as he could gather, or maybe he’d just spend a good hour feeling Victor up until they both couldn’t take it anymore, or maybe –

Yuuri dropped his head onto Victor’s chest and pressed his cheek over the man’s heart. “I just want to be alone with you for a little while,” he admitted in a gentle whispered.

The images crowding in Victor’s mind faded, as if embarrassed in the face of such an innocent wish.

Victor placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and tried to forget about all those leather straps covering Yuuri’s body.

For a while, Yuuri was silent and then he slid his head up towards Victor’s.

He waited for a kiss, but Yuuri’s lips slid over his jaw and came to a stop at Victor’s ear. “Now what shall I do with you?” His mouth caught Victor’s earlobe. Yuuri’s mouth was very warm.

Victor shuddered.

Yuuri’s hands trailed up Victor’s sides and then slid across until he reached Victor’s nipples. He rubbed circles around them. “I wish I could have you right now,” he whispered, releasing Victor’s earlobe so he could speak, “but I know that I’ll just get carried away and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, never mind skating. So why don’t we pretend that we’d just had an hour of very intense sex and skip to the next part?”

“Next part?” Victor echoed in bewilderment.

Yuuri sat up and Victor stared up at all that leather. “I have some creams that I can rub into your skin. What do you say to that?”

“Yes!” Victor gasped out. As if Yuuri had to ask!

He let Yuuri undress him. As soon as Yuuri got all of the clothes out of his way, he turned over onto his stomach and tried to imagine that he was aching from what Yuuri had done to him and not secretly wishing that Yuuri would do it all now.

Yuuri got off the bed to grab the promised creams. Victor heard him rummage around in his bag and then walk back across the room. The bed sagged under Yuuri’s weight as he crawled over Victor’s legs. Victor felt the belts press against his skin as Yuuri sat with his thighs on either side of Victor.

There was the faint snap of an opening cap and then Yuuri was rubbing Victor’s shoulders. A sweet smell reached Victor’s nostrils. It made him think of strawberries.

“You couldn’t hold yourself back when you saw me,” Yuuri whispered. “I lay on my stomach with my hands tied and you were out of your clothes and on top of me in the blink of an eye.”

Victor closed his eyes and let the images fill his mind. His breathing quickened.

“You took me and had me for at least 30 minutes –”

“An hour,” Victor breathed out, remembering the shock that had passed through his body at the sight of Yuuri. The more he thought about how Yuuri looked, the harder it became to breathe.

Yuuri chuckled. “An hour and a half, then. You had me screaming and begging until I was sure I’d go mad.” His hands were rubbing Victor’s back, and he felt himself relax. “Don’t get me _started_ on what you did with your mouth, but when you untied my wrists and saw the marks on them, you kissed them better.”

Victor sat up in alarm, nearly hitting Yuuri. He turned and grabbed Yuuri by the arms and examined them. There were no marks on Yuuri’s wrists.

He raised his eyes and suddenly became very aware of the fact that Yuuri was sitting next to him, wearing very nearly nothing.

He forced his eyes to stay fixed on his face, studying his wakeup.

“You can look,” Yuuri reminded him in a whisper, “I put this on just for you.”

He lowered his eyes, taking it all in again – bare shoulders, exposed nipples and all the belts. Enough belts to make him lose his mind.

Yuuri placed his hands on the bed between them and leaned forward coyly, his mouth a few tantalizing inches from Victor. “Do you want to continue, or…?” He let the question hang in the air dangerously before finishing with, “or do you want to help me out of all these straps?” his voice dropped as he spoke and the last word came out as an excited whisper.

Victor’s whole body was on fire. Did Yuuri know what he was doing to Victor? Was he like those people who lit a flame just so they could watch it burn? Was this a test of Victor’s willpower or… Yuuri was very obviously enjoying all this teasing and flirting, so why not play along?

Victor turned away and dropped back onto his stomach.

Yuuri went on, rubbing Victor’s back and talking about the sex they’d supposedly had.

Victor let himself relax and Yuuri’s words passed through his mind without him understanding what they meant. He could feel himself start to drift off. The bed, which last night he’d thought was a little hard and not at all comfortable, felt soft and inviting now.

Yuuri’s hands slipped over his buttocks and Victor tensed. Suddenly he wasn’t sleepy anymore. Yuuri’s fingers slipped inside.

Victor gasped.

Yuuri pulled his fingers up and out, rubbing and stretching Victor’s skin, as if preparing him for something. For several moments Victor struggled to breathe and then he gathered all his courage and turned over.

“What do you want to do now?” Yuuri asked.

He sat up. “I don’t know,” he lied as his mind presented him with different answers to that question.

“Let’s take a bath together,” Yuuri whispered. “Can you help me out of all this?”

Victor’s hands scrambled             quickly over Yuuri’s shoulders, unbuckling the belts there and tossing them aside. Wherever the belts had left faint marks on his skin, Victor planted a kiss.

The criss-crossing belts came off next, then the other ones around Yuuri’s torso. Victor let his lips trail down the middle of Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri drew in a sharp breath.

Victor raised his eyes and met Yuuri’s eye. He felt as if he was standing on an edge, about to jump off. “Lie down,” he whispered.

Yuuri dropped onto the pillow and Victor worked on his thighs next. He kissed each thigh as he freed it and let his hands slide down his legs until, at last he freed Yuuri’s ankles as well.

“You missed one,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor sat up and saw the belt around his neck. He licked his lips, feeling sweat sliding down his back. This was going to be almost impossible.

Yuuri raised his hands.

“No, let me.”

He climbed over Yuuri, taking care to stay on his knees and not to sit down on top of him. He unbuckled the belt and Yuuri let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.

A shudder passed over Victor’s skin.

Yuuri stretched his arms out on the pillow as if he was trying to touch the wall behind him and reminding Victor of the position he’d found him in when he’d come in. Victor’s eye fell on one of the belts he’d dropped on the bed.

There was a long silence filled only with the sound of their breathing. Did he always breathe this loudly? His heart hammered like mad.

Yuuri opened his eyes slowly.

Victor couldn’t tear his eyes away from that gaze. He trailed the back of his hand down Yuuri’s cheek.

He couldn’t see the belt, but he was still very aware of its presence, as if it was pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Yuuri’s face was warm under his touch. His lips parted slightly.

Victor’s eyes lingered on the line of Yuuri’s mouth. He let his thumb follow its curve.

Yuuri opened his mouth wider and caught Victor’s thumb with his lips. He slid his mouth forward until Victor’s whole thumb was in his mouth. He sucked gently and then pulled away, taking his time.

Victor felt hot and weak. He thought about the belt again, but he succeeded in suppressing the urge to glance at it.

 _“You took me and had me for at least 30 minutes –”_ Yuuri’s voice echoed in Victor’s head.

His knees were pressing against Yuuri’s thighs.

Yuuri was naked, _so_ naked.

Victor’s head dropped and it was more luck than aim that his mouth landed over Yuuri’s. He rested his weight on one elbow as his other hand swatted the belt away like an annoying fly.

He heard it hit the floor as Yuuri responded.

They kissed for a long time, pouring into it everything they had ever wanted to say to each other and everything that would remain unsaid. It was the longest “I love you” in Victor’s life and whenever Victor tried to pull back, Yuuri would make a protesting sound and Victor would keep going.

At some point, Yuuri’s hands made their way to Victor’s face, trailed over his cheeks and buried themselves in his hair. He wanted to kiss those hands, but still he couldn’t let Yuuri’s mouth go.

Victor kept himself up on his knees and elbows, but somehow, in a way he couldn’t quite explain, this kiss felt like having sex.

And then, by an odd trick in his mind, he remembered Yuri’s tango for his short program and remembered the thought he’d had in passing at the Grand Prix Final as he’d watched Yuri skate it.

_I want to tango with Yuuri._

And this moment – with them lying mostly still on a cheap bed with a thin mattress and a shapeless pillow, with Victor very carefully not lowering himself – _this_ was them dancing tango. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps the sight of all those belts really did make Victor lose his mind.

At last, Yuuri let him go.

Victor raised his head, feeling breathless and a little light-headed.

“How about that bath now?” Yuuri whispered.

Victor got off the bed and held his hands out wordlessly. Yuuri took them and rose.

He was somewhere between drunk and the feeling he got after a particularly good night of sex. He stumbled awkwardly to the bathroom with Yuuri stumbling beside him.

Yuuri giggled.

When he reached the bathtub he turned the taps and stuck his hand under the stream to test how warm the water was.

“How cold do you want it?” Yuuri asked.

Victor gave a shrug. “I don’t know,” he answered.

Yuuri turned to face him, leaving the water running. He shone. “I’ve never had a kiss like that before.”

“Me neither,” Victor admitted.

From where he stood Victor could still see the marks on Yuuri’s skin.

“For a moment, I really thought you’d tie me up and take me,” Yuuri went on.

“But you didn’t want me to,” Victor countered, looking away. Had he misunderstood Yuuri’s wishes?

Yuuri stepped up to Victor and slid his hand over Victor’s cheek. “You’re amazing. Did you know that?”

“I’m not amazing,” Victor countered.

“You are,” Yuuri said. Victor closed his eyes. “You have amazing self-control. I’m not sure I would’ve withstood all that.”

Victor’s eyes snapped open. “You aren’t upset with me?” Yuuri’s words surprised Victor. He was certain that Yuuri was disappointed at least.

“No, I’m not,” Yuuri assured him. He glanced at the bathtub. “Let’s get in.”

Victor climbed in, wincing at how cold the water was. He sat down with his legs stretched out and watched Yuuri expectantly.

Yuuri studied his own face in the mirror, grabbed lipstick from the counter and applied it to his lips. From where he sat, Victor had a view of Yuuri that reminded him of their first meeting. Once Yuuri finished, he turned around again. “Is the water really cold?”

“It’s freezing.”

“Good.” Yuuri nodded in approval. He turned the tap off and climbed in, facing Victor. He sat down between Victor’s legs, lowering himself slowly and with great care, like someone lowering an object that could explode at the smallest jolt. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around his legs, as if forming a shield. He lowered his chin onto his knees with a sly smile.

Yuuri was beautiful and amazing. How could he settle for someone like Victor?

For the last few hours Victor had felt as if he was flying. He loved Yuuri and Yuuri loved him back! The joy that resulted from that blocked out everything else – his constant fear of letting everyone down, his conviction that he didn’t deserve to be here at the Olympics and that, really, they only picked him out of pity. Now it all came crashing down on his head.

He didn’t deserve this, any of it. His place was in that mall, dressed in a cheap costume with little children laughing at him.

He covered his face with his hands and gave a soft groan.

“Victor?”

He couldn’t look Yuuri in the eye. He just couldn’t.

“What am I doing here?” he sobbed. “I don’t deserve this! Any of this!”

He felt Yuuri shift away, sliding against Victor’s legs on either side of him. The feeling that followed suggested that Yuuri was turning around. For a brief moment Victor thought Yuuri was about to climb out of the bathtub, but then came the sound of rushing water and warm water poured over Victor’s feet. He took his hands away and stared in surprise as Yuuri drained some of the cold water out and filled the bathtub with hot water instead.

After a few minutes spent watching the tap, he turned away from it and slid closer to Victor. This time he folded his legs under himself.

“My darling,” he said in tones as warm as the water around them. “Do I need to remind you how hard you worked to get here and in all the days that followed? You barely took a break the whole time. You deserve this. They would’ve never picked you for the Olympic team, if you didn’t.”

“But Yakov –” Victor began to protest.

“Yakov is an old coach with lots of experience,” Yuuri countered, moving even closer. “He believes you can win gold.” He sighed. “I don’t know much about figure skating, but I can see that you have what it takes to win gold as well. You came so close so many times!”

But Victor still wasn’t convinced. He stammered out something about luck, but Yuuri refused to listen.

“Listen,” Yuuri cut in, reaching out with both hands and taking Victor’s face, “even if you don’t win gold, it won’t change anything. It won’t change the way I feel about you.” He planted a brief kiss on Victor’s mouth. “It won’t take away all those wonderful moments we had together.” He kissed Victor’s cheek. “It won’t change how much you turn me on.” He kissed Victor’s other cheek.

“I don’t deserve you,” Victor whispered miserably.

Yuuri sat back and stared at him in shock. “Why are you saying that? Where did you get such a mad idea?”

Victor pulled his feet to himself, raising his knees like a barrier between them. “I’m a failure. Nothing more than a failure. You deserve someone amazing, like…” He tried to think of someone worthy of Yuuri. “…like a great scientist, or something.” He pressed his forehead against his knees, hiding his face again.

“Don’t say that,” Yuuri pleaded, putting his hands on Victor’s arms. “Not everyone can be a great scientist, or a good doctor, or a popular star.”

Victor gave a long shuddering sigh. “But it’s my fault. I could be so much better, but I’m not. I could try harder, but I never do. Worse, I wasted my whole life away.”

Yuuri leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the top of Victor’s head. “You haven’t,” he declared. “Everyone feels that way at some point of their lives, but it’s not true.”

Another long sigh followed Yuuri’s words. “It is true,” Victor insisted in a miserable tone of voice.

“I know it’s hard,” Yuuri whispered. “As much as I like my job, I also get days when I can’t help thinking that I should be doing something else with my life.”

This admission caught Victor by surprise. “Really? But you’re the sexiest model alive! No one can compete with you!”

Yuuri put his arms around Victor. “I love you so much!” he exclaimed. “And I want more than anything for you to be happy. You will do it, I know you will.”

Victor raised his head and stared into Yuuri’s face. He blushed as he realized that it wasn’t just Yuuri’s arms wrapped around him, but his legs too.

Yuuri kissed the tip of Victor’s nose and then pressed their noses together. He rubbed the tip of his nose up and down against Victor’s, taking his time to go up to the spot between his eyebrows and then down to the tip of Victor’s nose. He felt Yuuri’s warm breath on his face. Then Yuuri’s nose slid to one side and he rubbed it over Victor’s cheek.

“Let’s just enjoy this,” Yuuri whispered, “being together, competing at the Olympics. Many people would give a lot just for a chance to participate and here we are.”

Victor closed his eyes. He felt himself relaxing again.

“And Yakov’s reputation doesn’t depend on how well you skate. He’s been a coach for too long for that to matter, so don’t you worry about him,” Yuuri insisted. He slid one hand over Victor, bringing it close to the man’s face to brush the hair aside. He pressed his lips against Victor’s forehead.

Victor’s heart beat fast. He felt warm and safe here. For a moment he imagined that anything could be possible, that a failure like him could win an Olympic gold medal. He breathed out. “I will do my best,” he promised in a whisper, “I just hope it will be enough.”

“I know it will.” Where did Yuuri get all that faith from? How could he be so sure when he knew so little about Victor and his past? Victor felt like a liar in the face of such unshakeable faith. He was burning. His cheeks were red again, he was sure. He opened his mouth to ask if Yuuri had changed his mind about having sex, but Yuuri released him and moved away.

Victor watched in amazement as Yuuri fiddled with the taps again. When he turned to face Victor again he gave him a sheepish grin, “I think I should’ve kept the water cold after all.”

There was a deep blush on his cheeks.

 

Breakfast the next day passed in a one-sided conversation. Yuuri read the news out to him from his phone, but none of them got any words out of Victor. Every once in a while, he threw a glance at Victor to try and guess at his mental state.

He was panicking, Yuuri saw it all too clearly on Victor’s face. His mind searched around desperately for some kind of distraction. The next news he read was about Russia’s hockey team losing to the Canadian one the day before. A dark smile spread over his face at the thought of the over-confident captain. He didn’t dare raise the subject with Victor.

And then he remembered something, “I forgot to put all those belts away!” he exclaimed in a whisper. “Can you imagine what the cleaning staff will think when they see it?”

The blood rushed to Victor’s face. “Do you want to go back? Maybe they hadn’t cleaned our room yet.”

Yuuri remembered about Victor’s collection and the matter-of-fact way in which he’d talked about it before the first time they’d had sex and smiled. “Will you let me play with all of your toys when we go home, Bunny?” Yuuri asked, putting on an innocent expression.

Victor, who’d chosen that moment to raise a cup of tea to his lips, choked on its contents.

“I’m so sorry!” Yuuri was at Victor’s side in an instant, knocking on his back.

“It’s… ok,” Victor croaked, his face all red. “I’m… ok.”

Yuri chose that moment to appear at their table and eye them with suspicion.

Yuuri returned to his seat. “Good morning, Yuri.”

“Good morning,” Victor managed. He coughed a few times to clear his throat. “Did you sleep well, Yuri?”

The question surprised him and he contemplated it for several minutes, as if unable to think of a response. “Yes,” he answered at last and left it at that.

“Come have breakfast with us,” Victor invited him.

For a moment, Yuri had the look of a lost puppy reunited with his owner and then he managed to get his emotions under control and smiled. “Thank you.”

 

Victor barely got to see his parents before the competition. The thought that his parents were here to see him compete was making him even more nervous and Yuuri did his best to distract him, but the wait was long and it got harder to keep Victor’s thoughts on other subjects as the time stretched out before them.

Victor had made it into the last group, but Yuuri didn’t dare bring up the subject of what people expected from him.

The atmosphere at the Olympics was unlike the atmosphere they’d experienced at the other competitions. Everyone was on edge. The skaters hardly said two words to each other, as if even being friendly to someone was a sign of weakness. The groups marched out as if they were headed for a battle and they knew that not everyone would return alive.

Yuuri kept his observations to himself. He knew that they’d only make things harder for Victor. Instead, they did what they usually did before a competition: Yuuri talked through the program. He got so carried away that as they talked he jumped in the middle of the room.

Someone sniggered.

“Looks like they’re letting all kinds of riffraff into the Olympics these days,” someone muttered. “You don’t need to train anymore, just to go sleep with the right person.”

Yuuri felt the blood rise to his face. He turned at shoot the speaker a glare, but the man wasn’t someone that he recognized. Terror and embarrassment froze him to the spot, making it impossible to do or say anything. He felt stupid and small.

Victor stepped up next to him, ready to defend Yuuri, but as he opened his mouth, someone else spoke up.

“You’re right: you have no place at the Olympics.” It was the Russian Yuri. “Yuuri, here, could go out on the ice and beat you easily.” He stepped up to the offending skater and glared at him.

“Shut it, brat,” the man shot through gritted teeth.

Finally Yuuri recovered from his surprise and joined the conversation. “Don’t waste your breath on him, Yuri. There are more important things to worry about.”

Yuri turned to face them. “That gold is mine. You’ll have to work really hard, if you want to even have the tiniest chance to take it away.” He grinned.

Yuuri couldn’t resist the urge to smile back.

“It’s a shame you didn’t become a figure skater,” he declared. “Then we would’ve both given Victor a hard time.” He left the change room.

An astonished silence followed those words.

“Imagine that!” Victor exclaimed. “We could’ve competed against each other. Long-running rivals their fell in love with each other!”

Yuuri considered this. “I don’t know if I’d be able to compete against someone I love,” he admitted.

Victor’s cheeks turned red.

“But if I did, I wouldn’t go easy on you even for the sake of our love.”

Victor laughed. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he agreed and caught Yuuri in a kiss.

They called the last group out onto the ice and all traces of merriment drained out of Victor’s face.

This time when Yuuri walked out with him he didn’t say anything. He simply couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

An arena packed to the brim with people greeted them. Excited screams went up from the crowd. Were there always this many people out there? Yuuri found to his surprise that he couldn’t remember. People waved flags, filling the stands with many colours. It was enough to leave the viewer blind and deaf.

Yuuri stepped to the side and watched the skaters go out on the ice for their warmup. They formed a line on the ice and waved as their names were called.

The warmup began and Victor circled around, passing close to Yuuri. He raised a hand to his lips and blew Yuuri a kiss.

Yuuri sent one in return.

The audience screamed.

A smile appeared on Victor’s face and he jumped the quad flip.

The audience rewarded him with applause.

“Reckless,” someone muttered next to Yuuri and he recognized Yakov’s voice. “Why is he always so reckless?”

Yuuri joined his hands and kept watching. There wasn’t a lot of time left.

In fact, it felt like hardly any time had passed at all when the warmup ended and Victor made for the boards.

“Listen to me, Victor,” Yakov cut in before either he or Yuuri could speak. “You need to _focus_. Don’t let your mind wander. Just think about the skate. Go out there and do what you did in your last few run-throughs. Understand?”

Yuuri gripped Victor’s hands over the boards.

Victor nodded. Then he met Yuuri’s eye. “Kiss me for good luck.” His hands were trembling.

Yuuri took Victor’s head with both hands and pressed their mouths together. He did his best to make it a good kiss, but he knew that he couldn’t hold on for too long. He pulled away and a wicked smile appeared on his face. “You’ll have to wait until later for the rest.” The thought of more made him, himself, impatient and he leaned in again to gently bump Victor’s nose with his own. “I love you.”

Victor drew in a deep breath, as if breathing Yuuri in and skated away.

“Victor!” someone screamed.

The loud noise made every head turn.

Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise. Two people he recognized very well stood in the crowd, just close enough for Yuuri to see them. Both of them were dressed in lingerie that was very similar to what Victor had worn for his ads. One of them was Sara Crispino and the second was Seung Gil Lee. Yuuri had thought he’d left them both behind in America and, so, he was very surprised to see them here. Then he spotted Phichit standing next to them in a long coat and grinning.

Sara and Seung Gil held up a big poster of Victor from one of the ads. Where it used to say “Victor’s Secret” someone had covered up “’s Secret” to leave only his name. Sara was grinning as if she was really enjoying herself. Seung Gil had his usual cold expression on his face.

Around them the audience was going wild. Probably no one in the history of figure skating ever had people standing in their underwear while cheering from the stands.

“Please tell me that you’re not about to take your clothes off as well,” Yakov muttered next to him.

Yuuri couldn’t help smiling at the idea. “I’m not wearing my work clothes today,” he whispered.

Yakov hid his face behind his hand. As Victor prepared himself for the skate, Yuuri heard Yakov mumble, “One day I’ll get a pupil who listens to everything I say and doesn’t cause any scandals.”

Yuuri didn’t say anything to that. He watched as on the ice Victor prepared to open his heart up to the audience.

The expression on his face told Yuuri that he was in pain. In those few seconds before the music began he was calling to mind all of the heartache he’d endured, going over all the pain again so he could show it out on the ice.

 _I want you to have only happy memories from now on,_ Yuuri thought. _No more sadness._

Victor moved over the ice with the first note. His movements were hesitant at first, as if he was just discovering the world around him. Gradually he sped up and then love struck and he was moving faster than ever before. A few weeks ago they’d changed the music in this part to better suit the story they wished to tell. Victor was in love and it made him reckless. The discovery of the terrible secret followed and it tore Victor’s heart in two.

Now came the hardest part. It was slow, yes, but the slower the skater moved, the harder the routine became. It seemed counter-intuitive to Yuuri, but that was how Victor had described it. He had to follow the speed set by the music anyway and Yuuri watched, hoping that Victor would do everything right.

The skate ended without hope – the love was over, leaving Victor with nothing but a broken heart.

 _Perhaps next time you can show hope for the future in your skate,_ Yuuri thought.

Victor lowered his head as the last note sounded.

Yuuri breathed out. He’d gotten so used to watching critically, trying to find ways to improve the routine, that he hadn’t let himself enjoy the skate as it was.

The audience screamed. Sara and Seung Gil were up on their feet once more. One of them tossed something onto the ice.

For a moment Yuuri was terrified of what they might have thrown, but when he saw that it was nothing more harmless than a bouquet he breathed out a sigh of relief.

Victor bowed as they chanted his name.

“Victor! Victor!”

Yuuri clapped along to the beat.

“Victor! Victor!”

He found himself mouthing to the chant without thinking.

Victor! The world was centred on him. He was the most important person, the one who deserved everyone’s adoration and every single honour that a person could ever get.

Victor!

Remembering himself, Yuuri ran to the kiss and cry and caught up with Victor just as the skater stepped off the ice.

“I did it, Yuuri!” he exclaimed. “What did you think?”

Yuuri threw his arms around Victor and held him close. There was no kiss this time. “No more pain, no more sorrow,” he whispered into Victor’s ear, feeling the tears rise to his eyes. He released Victor and looked into his eyes. “I want us to be happy from now on.”

There were tears in Victor’s eyes now.

Yuuri led him gently to the bench in the kiss and cry and sat him down.

Victor fidgeted.

Yuuri took his hand in both of his own. “I think we should change the ending,” he suggested, his eyes digging into Victor’s face.

He frowned. “What ending?”

“The ending of the short program,” Yuuri explained.

“Change it to what?” was Victor’s next question.

Yuuri faced him with a smile. “To something more hopeful.”

“I don’t believe it,” Yakov whispered next to him, startling Yuuri.

He turned to look at the scoreboard as a voice boomed through the speakers.

“Unbelievable! Another world record!”

Yuuri turned to look at Victor again. There was a dazed expression on his face. Yuuri leaned closer and covered Victor’s cheeks with kisses as he murmured his congratulations.

Victor really was something else, a true miracle and he’d lit up Yuuri’s life with the brightness of a sun.

 

Victor felt as if he was in a dream. A world record at the Olympics! Him!

One by one the other skaters went out and scored less than him. People who’d given him looks of pity or disgust over the past few years couldn’t break the new world record he’d just set. It was as if someone had cast a spell over everyone.

Yuri Plisetsky was the last to go out on the ice and he shone, as if something had filled him from head to toe with light.

Beside Victor, Yuuri tensed.

Victor put an arm around him, feeling on edge himself. Only now did he realize how calm he’d been while the other skaters had gone out on the ice.

For the first time, Victor saw Yuri do his routine justice. Over the past few weeks, Yuri had learned how to show emotions during his skate and the end result was breathtaking.

When Yuri finished Victor joined the applause, but as the cheers faded away he tensed again. Did he have enough points?

The wait felt interminably long and then the scores appeared on the screens. Another roar went up from the crowd. This time they were chanting Yuri’s name.

Yuri Plisetsky set a new world record.

Victor bit his lip in frustration. He’d lost by 0.1 of a point.

“Victor?” Yuuri called.

He forced himself to smile. He acted as if everything was fine. He smiled all through the press conference that followed. It was fine. Everything was fine.

He smiled at the cameras. He answered the press’s questions and congratulated Yuri on his world record. He spoke as if the competition was lots of fun and he was very proud to be here, representing his country as it hosted the Olympic Games. He hoped that everyone enjoyed watching him skate, he said.

It was fine.

Night fell over Sochi and he lay in the dark, curled up into a ball with Yuuri clinging to him from behind.

It was _not_ fine.

He went over his skate in his mind.

  * _of a point!_



He could’ve gotten it here, there or there. He could’ve done a little more, skated a little better. He could’ve tried a little harder. He could’ve _won_.

Who was he kidding? He wasn’t an Olympic gold medallist! It had been mad to hope, mad, mad, _mad_.

The darkness opened up and tried to pull him in. He wasn’t good enough. It had all been for nothing.

“Victor?” Yuuri called in the darkness, his hold tightening.

“Arghh!” he exclaimed, unable to hold it in any longer. “I can’t do it! I’m nothing more than a failure!”

Yuuri turned him over. It was too dark to see anything, but Yuuri’s hands sought out his face and held it anyway. “You were _amazing_ today, Victor! I’ve been getting text from everyone at _Victor’s Secret_ , gushing about how much they loved your skating.”

“Those people with Phichit…” Victor remembered.

“That was Sara and Seung Gil. I had no idea they were coming! Which reminds me,” he added, “I meant to talk to them, but didn’t get a chance.”

Victor sighed.

Yuuri pressed up against him. “Listen, everyone is very proud of you. No exceptions. Even Yuri is proud.”

Victor laughed. “I don’t believe that!”

“I’m serious. I saw the way he looked at you as you answered everyone’s questions. You’ve become something of a hero for him.”

“But I haven’t _done_ anything!” Victor wailed.

Yuuri pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve done a lot, believe me.”

He sighed.

Yuuri rubbed Victor’s back affectionately. “A silver Olympic medal is something to be proud of too.”

0.1 points.

“I will win the gold medal,” Victor insisted.

Yuuri buried his face in Victor’s chest. “You’re my gold medal,” he declared in a muffled voice.

 

When Victor awoke, Yuuri was still asleep. He slipped out of Yuuri’s embrace without waking him and sat up.

Yuuri went on sleeping.

Victor brushed his hair to one side and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Did Yuuri know that he was the most perfect boyfriend in the world?

Yuuri didn’t even stir in his sleep.

The free skate was scheduled for the following day. Not wishing to lose any time, Victor brushed his teeth, got dressed and headed out for a quick morning jog.

Yuuri turned over, his eyes still closed. Victor wasn’t in bed with him. He had a vague feeling as if he’d seen the man leave, although he was mostly certain that he hadn’t opened his eyes when Victor left.

He opened his eyes now and stared at his hands.

Bright sunlight fell in through the window. He closed his eyes again. Victor’s smell was still there, as if the man was right beside him.

He remembered Victor’s fury last night. It had been so strong that Yuuri could almost taste it. Victor wouldn’t be content with second place and the realization of that caught Yuuri by surprise. He wanted Victor to win, of course, but surely an Olympic silver medal was good too?

_He must be tired of losing._

There was no arguing with that.

He sat up and there Victor was – perched on the edge of the bed. By the looks of it, he’d just returned from a jog.

Yuuri wrapped him in an embrace from behind.

“You should’ve woken me up earlier,” Yuuri told him.

Victor shook his head. “There’s still time.”

Yuuri pressed his cheek against Victor’s. “Good morning. How was your run?”

“Good.” Victor covered Yuuri’s hands with his own. “Yuuri, I was thinking: let’s move out into our own place. I’ll work part time over the summer. I can do more modelling, if… if _Victor’s Secret_ are willing to take more pictures of me.”

A future. Yuuri’s hold on Victor tightened. “Yes!” he whispered in an excited tone.

He felt Victor’s body give an excited shudder.

“I think the first thing I’ll do when we move in is make love to you,” Yuuri promised, pitching his voice just right to get Victor’s heart to beat faster.

Victor held his breath.

Yuuri’s mind leapt back, past the memory of how they’d lain down next to each other the night before like it was no big deal, to an evening spent with no clothes on.

“You can have anything you like,” Yuuri whispered into his ear, letting the tip of his nose touch Victor’s skin.

“Practice,” Victor uttered in a strangled voice, raising the word between them like a shield.

Yuuri released him and shifted away. He was getting carried away again.

 

Yuuri met up with Sara and Seung Gil before practice. Phichit texted him to arrange a breakfast together now that the surprise he’d planned had been revealed.

Yuuri sat with his mouth slightly open as Sara told everyone how exciting it was to meet _the_ Victor in person at last. She asked for his autograph and gushed about how jealous the other models would be when they found out. At her request, Yuuri took several photos of her with Victor. She posted them as soon as he handed her phone back to her.

Seung Gil sat through all of this with an impassive expression on his face. Yuuri knew him well enough to see that all of this was boring him.

When Sara turned to smile at Yuuri and thank him for taking Victor out into the world, Yuuri’s heart fell. Phichit had told them all his theories, passing them off as the truth. What else had he told the models? What mad rumours were going around all of _Victor’s Secret_ now?

“Listen, Sara, there’s something you need to know,” Yuuri began, flashing Phichit an angry look.

“Oh my god! It’s Mila Babicheva!” Phichit exclaimed, cutting Yuuri off before he could utter another word. “Come on! You haven’t forgotten our bet, have you, Sara?”

Everyone at the table turned to look where he was pointing.

“Bet?” Yuuri echoed, giving Phichit a suspicious look.

Sara rose from her chair. “Phichit promised to get me a date with Mila,” she said, flashing Yuuri an excited smile.

“Sorry, Yuuri,” Phichit apologized smoothly. “We’ll have to catch up another time.”

The three of them left the table, chatting excitedly. Sara caught Phichit’s arm and told him in a loud whisper how terrified she was.

Yuuri shook his head. Trust Phichit to have an escape prepared ahead of time!

“I think they took me for someone else,” Victor said, cutting off Yuuri’s thoughts just as the man began to wonder if tying Phichit up would work, or if he would still find a way to avoid confessing to everything.

Yuuri turned to face Victor, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. How could he explain something like this?

“I can’t imagine who they thought I was,” Victor went on, “but it must be someone named Victor.”

“Yeah…” _I’ll explain later,_ Yuuri decided, _once I get all the details out of Phichit._ He threw another glance in Phichit’s direction.

Phichit couldn’t avoid this forever, could he?

The practice that followed was tenser than any Yuuri had ever witnessed. Out on the ice and around it, the skaters hardly spoke to each other and concentrated all of their efforts on the practice itself. Even the coaches were silent.

Yuuri stepped away for a short while and overheard a conversation that caught him by surprise.

“Don’t you see?” a voice around the corner said. “None of us matter anymore. They’re fighting for that gold medal. The loser takes silver. We’ll have to be happy with bronze, whichever of us gets it. You have to be in denial not to see it.”

“Yeah,” another voice agreed reluctantly, “but losing to _Victor_ , of all people! Remember Worlds three years ago when he got the lowest score in the history of figure skating?”

“He didn’t get the lowest score. That’s just a lie someone made up,” someone else countered.

“Look,” the first person cut in, a note of impatience in their voice, “I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have to face the facts and the fact is – I’m going to be on that podium with both of them.”

Those words were met with a burst of laughter and a half-joking argument broke out. Yuuri didn’t stick around to hear the rest.

The other skaters were already admitting defeat, while Victor himself remained convinced that he was nothing more than a failure. Yuuri made several attempts that day to change Victor’s mind, but the skater refused to be swayed by any argument Yuuri could think of.

 

This time the wait for Victor’s turn to go out on the ice felt even longer. Victor spent most of it stretching while Yuuri kept him company, feeling useless. He watched Victor as if guarding him, but if someone had asked him who or what he was guarding Victor from, Yuuri would’ve been at a loss for an answer. And if something _did_ happen, what could Yuuri do about it?

 

The atmosphere at the warmup was so charged with energy that Victor found himself dreading that someone’s nerve might snap.

Victor stood before the audience with a skater on either side of him and kept his eyes fixed on Yuuri.

Strangely enough, this time he didn’t feel nervous. The thought that everything was riding on this one moment didn’t even cross his mind. He felt like someone who’d passed through a storm and had come out the other side. Perhaps somewhere out there the storm was still raging, wreaking havoc, but the skies were clear over his head.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that the results were already decided and that his skate was nothing more than a formality.

There was a look of deep worry on Yuuri’s face.

 _Tonight,_ Victor tried to convey with his eyes.

The exhibition skate was scheduled for the following day, but it wasn’t as important as this, not when he’d woken up with one of Yuuri’s legs wrapped around his and had to fight the urge to start something neither of them was prepared for.

“Victor Nikiforov!” the announcer’s voice cut into his thoughts.

He raised his arm and waved as if he was only thinking about how pleased he was to be here and his mind wasn’t filled with hopes of what the night would bring. Not at all.

Now that his mind had made that leap, he couldn’t focus on anything else. He went around the ice, acutely aware of where Yuuri was the whole time. Yuuri pulled him in like a magnet and it took a lot of self-control to resist the pull. Again the same old questions rose in his mind. Why had Yuuri picked him? How was he this lucky?

The questions were there even when he stepped off the ice to stand and wait for his turn.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked, perceptive as always.

Instead of answering, Victor pulled Yuuri close to press a kiss to his temple.

He watched the skaters go out one by one, feeling a little distant from everything that was happening.

Yuuri was more nervous than him and Victor couldn’t help thinking how odd this was.

When his turn came, he stepped out onto the ice, feeling once more as if someone else was controlling the situation. He went along the boards a short way, stopped and turned. Yuuri followed him from his side of the boards. Victor took Yuuri’s face with both hands and kissed him.

He had a few minutes, so he let his tongue explore the inside of Yuuri’s mouth, getting a good feel for his taste, before he pulled free at last. He continued to hold on to Yuuri.

Yuuri placed his hands on Victor’s arms.

“This is for you,” Victor whispered. He watched Yuuri blush and listened for them to call out his name.

“Next on the ice –”

He skated away, going backwards, keeping his eyes fixed on Yuuri. He stopped, blew Yuuri a kiss and spun away to face the judges before lowering his head and directing all his thoughts at his skate.

How could someone explain love to a person who’s never felt it before? They might point to poems, resort to strange metaphors, or they could point to that free program. Victor poured everything into it. There was the dizzying feeling of falling in love, the joy of giving and taking, the thrill of the confession, the fire of making love and there was the evening they’d spent where every breath felt like having sex.

Victor flew over the ice, letting his feet do what they’d done a million times. He didn’t stop to think. He didn’t ask himself what the next element was, he just let it all happen.

When he finished, he stood still and waited to see what response he would get. There was a moment’s silence and the audience erupted in loud cheers and applause.

In front of him, the two models rose to cheer and demonstrated what they were wearing this time.

Victor turned to face Yuuri.

The man’s lips curled up in a smile and tossed something.

Victor reached out with both hands eagerly to catch it. It landed with a hard smack right in his palms and he stared at it for several seconds in stunned silence before he realized what it was.

It was a deep red thong and it still held the warmth of Yuuri’s body.

Victor met Yuuri’s eye as a blush spread over Victor’s face.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

Victor pressed the thong to his lips.

The sound around them grew louder, but Victor forgot all about the crowd. All his thoughts were fixed on Yuuri.

Yuuri beckoned with his finger and Victor crossed the ice, barely daring to breathe.

They caught each other in an embrace and held on tightly.

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered.

“I love you too.” He felt Yuuri’s heard beat fast against his chest.

He raised his head a little and his eye fell on Yakov. The old coach looked furious.

 _Marks,_ Victor thought with a sudden clarity. _I need to get them._ He released Yuuri and led him to the kiss and cry, still very conscious of what he held in his other hand.

“Keep yourselves under control,” Yakov mumbled to them.

Victor resisted the urge to tell him that there were only two things he cared about in that moment and disgracing himself didn’t figure anywhere on the list.

And then the numbers were up and they stared at the scoreboard.

“I suppose I must forgive you this time,” Yakov said, but there was the hint of a smile in his voice.

Another world record.

“Two world records at the Olympics must be worth something,” Yuuri pointed out in an awed tone of voice.

“Three,” Yakov corrected. So he’d gotten the record for the total score as well…

Victor stared up at the crowds and watched them celebrate with a bit of detachment. Now what? Did he break the world record only to hold on to it for a short while before Yuri broke it again?

He picked the wrong time for actually trying. If only he’d put in all this effort at the last Olympic Games! But it was no good – there had probably been someone like Yuri back then as well.

Yuri went around in a circle, one hand raised to the audience who cheered back at him. Victor had been greeted like a favourite, but Yuri was getting the greeting fit for a champion.

 _I’ve done all I could,_ Victor reminded himself again. Where was that feeling of detachment now?

Victor didn’t have a habit of totaling up the points for a routine, which was why when Yuri finished skating all Victor could say with confidence was that it would be another close call.

The audience cheered and clapped. Yuri took his hands with a big smile. This was his senior debut, Victor reminded himself. This was his chance to make it into the history books.

He bowed in every possible direction and left to get his marks. The judges took a long time to hand out the scores. Victor imagined them replaying parts of Yuri’s routine, trying to decide between 0.1 of a point here and there. Would he break two more world records? Would Victor just have to contend himself with a silver medal?

 _I won’t rest until I get that gold. I’ll come back in four years. Everyone will treat me like a grandpa, but I’ll still come back. Who says I must retire now?_ He considered this. _I never said I’d retire, if I got gold. I had a good season so far. I’ll finish it off and come back again and keep coming back until I can’t. I’m not going to be happy with just one gold medal._

Still they weren’t posting Yuri’s scores.

Victor had the strange feeling that follows a very long wait. For some reason, he became convinced that he would never see Yuri’s scores, that they would be stuck here forever, waiting to see who the winner was.

And then the numbers appeared. He stared and tried to understand what he saw. The numbers changed to show the total score and a little number appeared beside them that explained everything.

_2_

“Victor! You did it!” Yuuri exclaimed, throwing his arms around Victor. “You did it! That was amazing! It was incredible! It was…”

Victor’s heart beat fast and, on a strange whim, he closed his eyes. He stood unmoving, feeling Yuuri clinging to his side. Yakov’s voice carried to him, just a touch louder than all the other sounds. The cheers and applause washed over him and he could hear them chanting his name. He wanted to preserve this moment forever, to keep it safe in his heart. He breathed it in slowly. Yuuri’s sent filled his nostrils – the merest hint of the cologne Yuuri used. The other smells were all dull everyday smells that told him he was in an arena full of people.

He opened his eyes and met Yuri’s eyes. The boy gave him a curt nod, like someone willing to admit that even though they’d lost, they hadn’t given up.

And then Victor gathered Yuuri close. “We did it!” he exclaimed and tears poured down his face. “Oh Yuuri! We did it!” He buried his head in Yuuri’s chest and wept.

“Oh, Victor…” Yuuri murmured and rubbed his back.

But he couldn’t stop crying and even wept through the medal ceremony.

 

Dinnertime came and the top six figure skaters save one gathered in the lobby of one of the hotels. Even Yuri Plisetsky showed up, although he was eyeing the door and considering ditching everyone. He’d only come because he thought Victor was there, but for some reason the man wasn’t coming.

“Where are they?” one of the skaters asked.

“Who?” someone else asked.

Yuri rolled his eyes. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Victor and Yuuri. We invited them to come with us.”

Yuri waited for the answer. If they weren’t coming, he wasn’t going to stick around for much longer.

Before anyone could answer what might have been a rhetorical question, the elevator door opened and two women stepped out of the elevator, dressed as if they were about to go on a date. Yuri and Mila shared skating rinks and coaches, so he had no trouble recognizing her as one of the two, but the other woman also looked familiar and for a while he struggled to remember where he’d seen her.

Mila whispered something into her ear, making her laugh and Yuri remembered. She was one of the models who’d cheered for Victor!

Yuri turned away. It was none of his business. All of this was stupid anyway. He was much better off going on his own somewhere. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with meaningless chatter, and annoying skaters, and…

“Sorry,” someone said, just beside him, “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Otabek.”

Yuri turned and took in the skater standing beside him. Of course he knew Otabek Altin. The man had competed against him many times. He’d taken third place and stood with him and Victor on the podium. But, it occurred to Yuri then, that the two of them hardly ever exchanged two words together.

“I’m Yuri.” He wondered if they should shake hands. But it was stupid to shake hands! But what was he supposed to do? He raised his hand in a sort of wave and felt stupid doing it. “Nice to… um… meet you,” he mumbled for something to say.

_I’ll go to my room and just sleep. I’m too tired to deal with all this crap anyway._

“I know a good restaurant nearby,” Otabek said. “The owner is an old friend of mine who moved here. Do you want to come with me?”

“Victor isn’t coming,” someone said dismissively, continuing the conversation from before. “I talked to him after the press conference. He said he made plans for the evening with Yuuri.”

“Aww! Come on!” That sounded like Jean-Jacques.

Yuri suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he studied the figure before him. Otabek was wearing a leather jacket and a pair of jeans. There was a calm expression on his face, as if he had everything under control. He looked cool. And Yuri knew then that Otabek wouldn’t spend the evening saying stupid things, or annoying him. An evening spent with Otabek wouldn’t be a waste of time.

“Yes,” Yuri said. He followed Otabek out into the street and didn’t look back.

 

Yuuri closed the door to their hotel room with a mischievous grin on his face. For a moment he stood facing the door, drawing in a slow breath.

Victor lay on the bed behind him, all of his clothes still on, as per Yuuri’s instructions. Yuuri had deep red lipstick, an unopened box of condoms, a bottle of edible lube, a bodysuit and stockings with a garter belt. There were heart-shaped clasps in the garter belt to match the heart-shaped holes at the front and back of the bodysuit. He’d prepared it all before they’d left St. Petersburg, determined to get every detail right for the night they would definitely spend together. It was all meant for Victor, of course. Yuuri had already decided that he would be wearing absolutely nothing the whole night long.

He turned around and gave Victor a dangerous smile. “Let’s get you out of that and into something that will suit you better.” He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Then he unbuttoned his pants and stepped closer. “I can’t promise it will be comfortable, though,” he said in a low voice and his pants slid off to reveal that he had nothing on underneath.

A bead of sweat slid down the side of Victor’s face.

 

The exhibition skate at the Olympic Games always attracted a lot of attention. The stands filled up with excited fans and people who just wanted to see a good show and the skaters went out in different costumes to amuse and entertain and, sometimes, surprise.

Victor’s exhibition skate was a big disappointment. He jumped only one quad – the quad flip that had become his signature move that season and avoided all other jumps. The routine was missing its usual sparkle and flair and made many fans wonder what had happened to Victor.

The press conference right after shed light on this mystery.

“Mr. Nikiforov, what do you say to fans who are disappointed with your exhibition skate?” a journalist asked. “Many expected to see something more challenging from you.”

He blinked wearily up at the cameras. “I hope the fans will find it in their hearts to forgive me,” he said with a watery smile. “These last few days have drained me of all my energy, so I wasn’t in good form when I went out on the ice today.”

“Does this mean you’ll miss Worlds?” the journalist insist.

“Miss Worlds?” Victor repeated. A few seconds of silence followed as he puzzled over the meaning of the question. Then, at last, everything became clear, “Of course not! I promise to do my best to become world champion!”

The crowd applauded.

Yuuri watched the interview, doing his best to suppress the feeling of guilt. He had no regrets, he told himself, despite all the aches in his body. After all, it was his duty as Victor’s coach to improve Victor’s stamina.

 

A few weeks before Worlds an odd-looking letter came in the mail, addressed to Yuuri. He and Victor had just finished moving into their new place and so it had come as a surprise that mail addressed to them was already coming to their new address.

The envelope was on thick paper. It bore Yuuri’s name printed in beautiful curly handwriting, with the address listed only as “in Russia somewhere” and nothing else. There was no return address and no stamp.

 _Maybe it’s a prank from one of the neighbours,_ Yuuri thought. He hadn’t met any of them yet, but most of the apartments were supposed to still be empty. It was a brand new building after all, and people were only just starting to take the apartments.

He carried it up into the apartment and then placed it on the table in the kitchen. Victor was out for a morning jog and wouldn’t be back for another half hour.

 _If it’s something terrible, I’ll throw it out and pretend I never saw it,_ Yuuri decided. _Victor doesn’t need to know about this._

Still it worried him. Maybe it was best to just throw it out without reading it. Tonight was supposed to be their first official night in the apartment and he’d made preparations to give Victor another night to remember. If this was something terrible, it would ruin the whole mood.

He eyed the envelope, as if it was about to explode.

_What if it’s something harmless? If I don’t read it, it will bother me all day and if it’s harmless then that will only make it worse._

He took a deep breath, tore the envelope open and pulled the letter out.

He read it once, stared at it in amazement and then read it a second time.

 

_Dear Yuuri,_

_It has come to our attention that there are several quite extraordinary rumours going around about our person. We were told that many believe that the young man you are currently seeing (and coaching in figure skating, it would seem), is the Victor behind Victor’s Secret. That is a joke in very poor taste and we do hope that you are not the one responsible for starting it. Allow us to assure you that the Victor behind Victor’s Secret is a different person altogether. We are that person and as we do not make it a habit of appearing in public, you will have to take our word for it._

_We wrote this letter with the intention of requesting that you explain matters to your colleagues and to everyone else who continues to labour under this misapprehension. However, it was presented to us that this deception will make it easier for us to remain away from the public’s eye. You are, therefore, granted permission to continue with this deception as long as it does not harm my reputation or that of Victor’s Secret. We trust we do not need to tell you what should happen if you should fail to do this._

_Hoping this letter finds you in good health, etc,_

_Victor_

 

Yuuri gaped at the letter. Was it true? Did _the_ Victor actually write to him of all people? He hadn’t had a chance yet to confront Phichit about it, or to explain to Sara and Seung Gil that Phichit had lied to them, but now it looked like he didn’t have to. It hadn’t even occurred to him that _the_ Victor might ever find out about this. It must’ve spread far, for him to have heard about it.

He read the letter again. “Our”? The designer wrote as if he was a monarch sending a decree from his throne. Yuuri snorted. Well, with the billions he must have to his name, he was practically royalty.

And then Yuuri noticed that there was more at the bottom.

 

_P.S. My darling Yuuri, we hope you will forgive the cross tone of this letter, we were very out of sorts when we wrote it, but we hope that as an apology you will accept our dedication of the new line to you. We thought it would be appropriate in light of our supposed identity._

And now he was practically telling Yuuri that he should spread the lie around.

A smile spread over Yuuri’s face. There were bound to be at least a couple of advantages to this, he decided, even they wouldn’t see even a fraction of that billion-dollar wealth.

He heard the door click behind him and the sound of Victor entering the apartment. “Yuuri?” he called.

Yuuri walked over to give him a kiss. “Good morning!”

“What’s that?” Victor asked, noticing the letter in Yuuri’s hand.

“A letter from the owner of _Victor’s Secret_ ,” Yuuri answered and laughed at the surprise on Victor’s face. As he talked about Phichit’s lie to the models and the theory he’d once had, he watched Victor’s expression change and for a moment he wondered. Was it possible? No, no, he told himself, it was too strange.

“What are you going to do now?” Victor asked once he got a chance to read the letter and mull it over a little.

Yuuri stepped closer and slid a finger down the middle of Victor’s chest. “I’m going to buy you a very expensive suit and then I’m going to take it off you.”

Victor pulled him into a kiss.

 

The figure skating season came to an end, making quite a splash in the history of figure skating. Odd rumours went around and a few scandals shocked the fans, but no one could deny that there was a lot of very good skating throughout.

Victor, now with multiple titles to his name, accompanied Yuuri to work on his first day after the season’s end. They both new that the new line came in that morning and were both looking forward to see how it turned out.

Yuuri hung on Victor’s arm and shone as they entered the building. Victor wasn’t sure where he got so many fake diamonds from, but Yuuri was covered almost head to toe in them (he’d covered up really well when they took the subway to work). Victor was in a suit Yuuri had bought for him.

As soon as the security guard spotted them, he leapt to his feet and bowed.

Victor nodded as regally as he could and they made for the elevator.

The doors closed and both of them burst out giggling.

“I can’t keep doing this!” Victor protested. “What if someone asks me what I think about one of their designs? Journalists already tried to get an interview out of me. Twice!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri reassured him. “Just make something up. Tell them I’m your muse,” he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

“But what if people start thinking that I really do have billions to my name?” Victor asked. “My mother is always so terrified of pickpockets!”

Yuuri straightened up and leaned on Victor’s arm again. “Bunny, you know that if they go hunting for secret stashes of gold in our apartment, all they’ll find is your stash under the bed.” He looked up at Victor through his eyelashes.

“ _Our_ stash,” Victor corrected in a low voice as the doors opened. “And a very-well used stash, too.”

They both blushed and laughed at this. Yuuri had to bite back the urge to discuss specific items from Victor’s collection as they strolled down the hallway and into Yuuri’s change room. _Later,_ he told himself.

Yuuri’s change room was packed with people. Someone had rolled in a new rack into the middle of the room and the new collection hung from it, glittering in the lights.

“Good morning, Victor! Good morning, Yuuri!” Phichit called out. There was just the hint of reverence when he spoke with Victor and Yuuri wondered if the man actually believed the rumour he’d helped spread.

They both greeted him as well as everyone else in the room.

“I don’t think looking at the pieces on the hangers helps,” Victor observed. “It’s better when someone puts them on.” He and Yuuri exchanged a look.

Yuuri circled the pieces with a thoughtful look on his face. He picked out two that he could see had the most potential and held them up to show Victor. “Were these the two you told me about?” he asked. He wondered if he would have to wink or if Victor would get the hint.

Victor played along perfectly. “Oh yes,” he agreed, “you have a perfect memory for detail, as always, _darling_.”

 _Keep yourself under control,_ Yuuri told himself and turned to give everyone else in the room an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, _Victor,_ ” and here he put an inflection on his name that suggested that he’d said Your Majesty instead, “was uncertain if he was happy with how these two pieces turned out and he asked if he could see me in them just in case he needs to make some adjustments.”

Half the room was giving him a knowing look, but he didn’t care.

Yuuri did some mental calculations. “Give us forty minutes,” he added.

Victor considered this with a serious expression. “We might need an hour,” he suggested.

“Well, you heard _the boss_ ,” Phichit exclaimed, cutting off the awkward silence that followed. He ushered them all out, taking care to be the last one to leave. “Forty minutes,” he reminded them and winked before closing the door.

Yuuri lowered the clothes from the new line onto the table. He undid the clasps of the fake diamond necklace and dropped it next to the table. He removed the second and third necklaces. The bracelets came off next, followed by the earrings. He removed his gloves and his shirt. He didn’t stop until he was completely naked.

Finally he turned to face Victor. He held up both pieces. “Which one?” he asked.

Victor clutched the nearest thing, which happened to be the other end of that table. Yuuri caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and smiled in approval. Victor licked his lips and answered in a hoarse voice, “on your right.”

The choice had been a tough one, Yuuri was sure of it. One was all mesh, while the other was made mostly of straps. Victor picked the mesh bodysuit. The openings were big at the top and got finer further down. Two buttons held it together at the bottom. Yuuri reached down to fasten them and noticed a little tag.

_Perhaps three would be better here. Change it, if you think that would suit you better, darling. x_

 

Yuuri’s eyebrows rose. He didn’t want to think about this coincidence right now. Instead, he fastened the buttons and sat down on the table with his legs spread wide. “What do you think? Two or three buttons?”

Victor stared with his mouth open.

Yuuri forced himself to remain still.

“Well…” Victor walked over to him with a serious expression on his face. “There is some awkward gaping in the middle, so a third… or maybe bigger…” his fingers trailed absently over the place where the two halves met, “…buttons.”

Yuuri breathed loudly.

Victor lowered his head. “I suppose a zipper would be a bad idea, you might catch –”

“Victor,” Yuuri interrupted him, “if you don’t take me right now, I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“Right. Sorry.” Victor’s fingers freed one button and then the second. He leaned his face really close, his fingers sliding around. He gripped Yuuri’s buttocks with both hands just as his mouth caught Yuuri.

Yuuri let out a relieved sigh. This time he knew they wouldn’t be interrupted.

When Victor raised his head and their eyes met, Yuuri whispered, “Are you sure you’re not actually the owner of _Victor’s Secret_?”

He laughed and Yuuri braced himself. “No, of course not! You know that!”

Yuri tried to smile as he became all too aware that Victor’s hands were still gripping him and the bodysuit was sliding up his chest. “Sometimes,” he said as he slipped his fingers into Victor’s hair, “I wonder about that.”

“If I find out that I’m actually a billionaire, you’ll be the first to know, I promise,” Victor vowed, releasing his grip on Yuuri to catch his hands and plant kisses on each palm.

“Do you think you could do me a big favour?” Yuuri asked and waited to see if Victor would blush at this.

“Of course!” Victor beamed, radiating innocence.

Yuuri slipped off the table and leaned sideways against it. “Do you think you could take your pants and underwear off and sit down?” He indicated the chair before the mirror.

Victor didn’t need to be told twice. He did as Yuuri instructed and gave Yuuri an expectant look.

Yuuri slid the bodysuit up, not breaking eye contact with Victor. He pulled it up with one quick movement and then dropped it onto the table without turning his head.

Victor’s mouth opened slightly.

Yuuri picked up the other outfit he’d picked and held it out to Victor. Victor accepted it without argument. Yuuri turned around and presented his back without another word.

Victor got off the chair and helped Yuuri into the complicated mess of straps. He started with the clasps at the top and then dropped to his knees to do up the ones at Yuuri’s thighs. It was probably meant to be worn with a thong, since it didn’t even try to cover anything at all.

Yuuri leaned down and kissed Victor. He pulled away and pressed his forehead against Victor’s. “Will you come watch the photoshoot?”

“Yes,” Victor breathed out.

“We have no time left. Sit down in the chair, please.” He released Victor, watched him sit and then sat down on top of him.

They sat both facing the mirror before them.

“My hair is a mess,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor raised his hands and pulled his fingers through it, messing it up even more.

Yuuri laughed.

Victor took his hands away and let Yuuri brush out his hair while they both enjoyed their wonderful closeness. Then, seeing Yuuri set his hairbrush down and knowing that he was done, Victor slid both hands down Yuuri’s back with the thumbs pointed at the middle. He rubbed them against Yuuri’s skin, making slow movements and moving them down, stopping for a moment at the spot where Yuuri’s back ended and his buttocks began.

Yuuri breathed hard and shifted forward a little.

Victor licked his thumb and rubbed Yuuri’s skin as if the lipstick marks from their first meeting were there again.

“Kiss me,” Yuuri said, rising to his feet to turn around and lean over Victor.

But Victor caught his hips with both hands and pressed his lips against the spot where his fingers had been mere seconds before. For a moment Yuuri felt the tip of Victor’s nose digging into his skin and his chin touch his buttocks.

“We-we need to go,” Yuuri insisted, “otherwise we’ll be here all day…” He turned to face Victor with a smile. “I love you,” he said, catching Victor’s face with both hands. “I’m so happy we met. You made my life so much better!”

For a moment, he feared Victor would argue, but Victor closed his eyes and said, “Me too. You’re my gold medal.”

 

If you should happen to go to the right mall in St. Petersburg and at the right time you might stumble into someone in a big bunny costume, or a man selling all kinds of knick-knacks from cell phone cases to hair straighteners. Sometimes the man is mopping up a mess someone made, and sometimes he’s making a mess of his own. But no matter what he’s doing when you see him, the Olympic gold medallist, the World Champion, one of the top figure skaters in the world, is sure to be glowing with pure happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for another fic! Thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos and comments!
> 
> I promised a couple of people to write a Good Omens fic next, so I'm taking a brief break from YOI, but when I'm done that one I'll come back with The Wedding Date (I hope).
> 
> Also this chapter is 16k words long! That's the longest chapter I've ever written. I probably should've split it into 2 chapters, but it's too late for that now...


End file.
